


Circle C: Hannah's Homecoming

by Aynn_Ward



Category: Original Work
Genre: "cowboys and indians", Colorado Territory, F/M, Historical Romance/Western, Set in 1875, my own made up characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-04-05 07:20:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 41
Words: 163,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19043806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aynn_Ward/pseuds/Aynn_Ward
Summary: Raised on the Circle C, a prominent ranch in the Colorado Territory, Hannah Cooke was just fifteen when she ran away to be with the man she loved and his people—the Cheyenne. Once there, she became Bright Eyes to them, married the man she’d run away to, and gave birth to two fine children, first a son and then a daughter. Thinking she’d found that once in a lifetime love, she’d hardly thought about the family she’d left behind—until her Cheyenne husband was murdered by Pawnee warriors while he was out hunting......summary continued "at the end" of Prologue/C1 (due to lack of space given here).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome readers, to Hannah’s Homecoming, the first story in my Circle C series. Or, what I hope to become a series of stories about the Cooke family—and others. This story takes place in 1875, in the American West—in a fictitious town that I’ve named Little Creek. This first story is about Hannah Cooke—the third child (grown) born to Jon and Mary Cooke. I’ve already started a few other stories in the series—one about Megan Cooke (Hannah’s sister)...and another about Grey Eagle (Black Hawk’s brother)—but I hope to write one about all the siblings and maybe a few more!
> 
> This story is complete...but I will be posting it slowly, in hopes of generating interest.
> 
> Further, I've posted this in a few other places...so if it seems familiar, that's why. Lol.

** PROLOGUE **

 

_May, 1868_

Without looking back, Hannah ran down the front steps of the only home she had ever known, then across the yard and into the barn to get her horse. But as fast as she’d come in, she came to a halt in front of the mare’s stall—it was empty! And so were the rest of them, she noted with a panicked look around.

“Damn!” she cursed, frustrated that her father knew her better than she’d realized. “Fine! I’ll walk. Who needs a horse?”

Turning, Hannah ran out of the barn—only to come face-to-face with her brother James. He’d been the one to unlock the door to her bedroom, releasing her from the prison their father had put her in. But now the young man looked regretful, like he’d changed his mind, and she worried that he might just try to force her back into the house and lock her up again.

“James, _please_ ,” she said before he could say or do anything.

“Think about what you’re doing, Hannah,” he said, reaching out and taking her by the shoulders.

“I _have_ thought about this,” she countered as she placed her hands on her brother’s chest. “I want to be with Windwalker.”

“But...he’s an _Injun_ , Hannah!” he burst, obviously confused by and frustrated with her actions.

Shaking his hands off of her, she scowled up at him. “What he is, James, is the man I love. I _love_ him!”

Sighing, her brother reached out and pulled her into his arms. “Then go, Hannah,” he whispered. “Hurry! Before pa gets back.”

Her eyes full of tears, Hannah clung to her brother. “Tell everyone I love them,” she choked—then turned and fled.

 

 

** CHAPTER ONE **

_Late March, 1875_

The older woman cackled a delighted laugh at the younger woman’s amusing tone. It was a familiar sound in camp, one that drew curious glances from onlookers. The two women often sat together, trading life’s stories and learning that they weren’t so different. It was something that had developed many years before, when Bright Eyes came to live with, and love, the People. It was a tradition that had started on day one and today was no different.

Bright Eyes was sitting beside her mother-in-law, Pretty Bird, smiling and laughing, and talking, as she repaired an old pair of moccasins for her husband, when the hunting party returned. At first she thought nothing of it—Windwalker spent most days out hunting or warring, sometimes returning quite late and sometimes staying out all night—but then she glanced at the sky; it was far too early for them to be returning to the village.

With a frown, Bright Eyes noticed that the hunters carried no meat and that no one seemed happy. That was when she scanned the crowd of returning men. After searching the party for her husband’s horse, she paled; his horse carried no rider. Slowly, she stood up, as did the older woman beside her. Now both women searched the hunters for another man. As the hunt leader he should have been at the front of the hunters, but he was not. Both women dropped what they had been working on and started forward.

Many Horses, the man they searched for, rode stiff-backed on his spotted hunting pony, in the middle of the hunters, his horse leading another horse, one that carried a travois and an injured man. The man was Windwalker, Bright Eyes’ husband.

When Bright Eyes saw Many Horses, and the horse and travois beside him, she ran forward. At first she did not speak to her brother-in-law. She did not even look at him. She needed to see to her husband first. Carefully, she lifted the blanket that covered Windwalker up to his neck and peeled it back, exposing the blood-covered chest and stomach of the man she loved. The sight of so much blood turned her stomach causing her to have to swallow hard. With tears in her eyes, she glanced up at Many Horses.

“What has happened to my husband?” she asked tearfully, ignoring the stricture against speaking to one’s brother, which Many Horses was since she was married to _his_ brother.

For a moment, Many Horses just stared at her, then he slid off his horse, handed its lead to the boy who had come forward to look after his horse, and looked down at his brother’s woman. Bright Eyes’ eyes were full of pain and no longer bright.

“We were attacked by Pawnee!” he growled.

**~oOo~**

As the sun came up the next morning, the light left Bright Eyes completely. Windwalker was dead. She had spent the night huddled by her husband’s side, listening to his raspy breath and hoping Tall Buffalo, the People’s aging medicine man, was wrong when he said Windwalker would not live to see another sun. He had been right; Windwalker had opened his eyes one final time, told Bright Eyes that he loved her, and then he had closed his eyes forever. He was gone, and with him, her reason for being.

“Aiy-ee!” Bright Eyes screamed loudly, as she fell over her husband’s prone body. “Aiy-ee!” she continued to sob. She was joined by the other women who loved the man who was now dead; his mother, his sister, his sister-in-law, even his four-year-old daughter, Little Snowbird, added her wails to that of the women. Their keening could be heard throughout the camp, causing other women to add their voices in support of those in pain. To an outsider the noise would have been deafening, but to the Cheyenne people, the sound was common; it was the sound of death.

**~oOo~**

For days the roar of grieving women sounded through camp while preparations were made to bury Bright Eyes’ husband. When a seven-foot high scaffold had been constructed, the women set to work on the body, first wrapping Windwalker in his best robes. Bright Eyes lay her husband’s favorite pipe and a bag of tobacco on his chest, then began sewing him into watertight blankets to protect his body from the elements and scavengers. The body was then hoisted up onto the scaffold, where it would be left to slowly waste away in the dry winds of the plains. Last, food and water were attached so that Windwalker would have sustenance for his journey. Slowly, one by one, the People drifted away, returning to their own lodges and leaving the dead man’s wife there, to grieve alone.

 

The men did not take part in this final end of life, preferring instead to keep their distance from the dead. But Many Horses stayed within sight, watching the women work and grieving the loss of his brother. He watched as the women filed away from the scaffold and he saw his mother finally take up the hand of Little Snowbird and walk away, leaving Bright Eyes standing there alone, arms wrapped around one of the poles that held the scaffold aloft.

Many Horses wanted to leave as well. He almost did. But something about the way his brother’s wife was clutching the pole concerned him, so he stayed. He had not always liked Bright Eyes. Though she was very beautiful, by the standards of _any_ people, there was a time when he questioned why his brother would have chosen such a woman—a woman who was not Cheyenne—an outsider—a _white_ woman. He had argued against her acceptance and had even refused to speak to Windwalker for nearly a year after their marriage. It had only been the birth of Little Porcupine, his brother’s first child, who had brought Many Horses around.

 _That was a long time ago,_ he thought—six years. He frowned with remorse. He’d gladly give _anything_ , to have that year back. Now that time of silence only seemed petty, especially since Bright Eyes had proven herself many times over. She was a good woman, a good wife and mother, and a good sister-in-law, he thought as he continued to watch her. For all that she looked different from the People, she was definitely one of them. She had adapted to their lifestyle very quickly and learned their language. She always did her best to fit in, _respected_ their ways completely, and in return she was respected by everyone.

Many Horses watched as Bright Eyes stood slowly and moved toward one of her husband’s war ponies that had been tied nearby. He knew that she had chosen his brother’s favorite horse, the one he used most often, and he smiled grimly. _Yes, she is_ definitely _one of the People,_ he thought. He could not take his eyes off of her as she walked toward the horse, cooing softly and talking in a gentle voice. He watched as she took up the horse’s reins and led him to the scaffolding that held her husband, and, before the horse knew what was to happen, Bright Eyes withdrew her knife from the sheath at her back and slit the horse’s throat. There was a sudden gurgling sound and a brief raspy gasp as the horse tried to breathe, and then the pony collapsed at the woman’s feet, dead.

 

For a moment, Bright Eyes stared at the blood that pooled around Windwalker’s horse. It made her sad to kill the horse. It was not the way of the people _she_ had been born to, but she knew her husband would want to have his horse for his journey, and she wasn’t about to deny him what he wanted. She never could—not in life and certainly not in death. _This is the last thing I will be able to do for him,_ she thought, wishing things could be different.

Next, her eyes went to the knife in her hand, the blade red with blood and dripping. Without thinking, she ran a finger over the flat of the blade. The blood was warm to the touch, and sticky when she pinched her thumb to her finger. Slowly, she painted a crimson stripe on each of her cheeks, starting at the inner corners of her eyes and ending near the outside of her jaw. She didn’t know why she felt the need to do this, only that it must be done. For a moment she wished that she had one of her mother’s small hand-mirrors, so that she could see what she looked like, but the thought passed as quickly as it had come and her eyes focused again on her knife. Kneeling down, she wiped the rest of the blood on the grass at her feet, then grabbed one of her thick, waist-length braids and hacked it off near her shoulder. The remaining hair unraveled from the braid and lay splayed over her shoulder. When she had done the same thing to the other one, she tossed them up onto the wrapped body of her dead husband, then crumpled to the ground and began sobbing.

 

Many Horses wondered why she had added her hair to the scaffold. _Is she sending a part of herself to be forever with her husband?_ he wondered. Though she had adopted the ways of his people, there was still something different about her. Sometimes she did things that the People did not understand, but he was strangely intrigued by her all the same. He realized now that he always had been, though he had never admitted it to anyone. He knew now that he never would.

Thinking that she was finished, he was about to leave, but when she suddenly sat up, raised the knife and made several small slices in the skin of her left forearm, he stopped to watch her once again. Her actions were not uncommon, many of his people did this to lessen the pain of loss, but something about her posture made him uneasy. He watched as Bright Eyes stared at the rivulets of blood that flowed out of the cuts she had made, and listened as she began to sing a song of mourning. Then she cried out her sorrow again, this time speaking words in her own language, words he did not understand. He listened, wishing he knew what she said, and watched as she continued, shifting the knife to her other hand so that she could do the same to the opposite arm.

Many Horses watched, and frowned as he saw her slash her right arm and swoon to her side. She had to use the hand holding her knife to steady herself or she would have fallen. The movement made the cut on her right arm visible to him. _It is too deep,_ he thought fearfully. Rushing forward, he gathered her up in his arms and carried her back to the village.

**~oOo~**

Several weeks passed by, but Bright Eyes only lay in her furs, tears streaming down her cheeks. When she wasn’t sobbing, she stared at the hole in the top of the tepee or slept. She only got up once a day to relieve herself, but even that could have been ignored; she hardly drank anything. Pretty Bird had been bringing her daughter-in-law food, food that went untouched unless someone forced the woman to eat it. The older woman had also been taking care of the children. Bright Eyes didn’t seem to even see her children anymore. The old woman worried, and so did others.

“I will talk to her,” Pretty Bird finally said.

Nightwalker nodded. “Heehe’e.[1] I think that you should.” The old man looked up at the sun, then back at his wife. “We are all sad, but the needs of the living must come first.” No one had wanted to approach the grieving woman, but it was time.

“You should go now,” Nightwalker continued. “And make sure you mention Many Horses’ offer.” The old man glanced over at Bright Eyes’ tepee. There were several horses tied there; horses that had been ignored. “I don’t think she has even noticed. Many Horses is anxious.”

Pretty Bird nodded and left.

**~oOo~**

“Bright Eyes! Look at me!” Pretty Bird said sternly and nudged the woman lying at her feet. Bright Eyes groaned and opened her eyes, but she didn’t sit up. “You need to get up. This tepee needs cleaning and there is no water to drink or wood to burn.”

“I do not care,” Bright Eyes moaned and rolled back over. “Nothing matters now, Pretty Bird. I am nothing.”

There was a time when Pretty Bird had not approved of her son’s choice of a wife, but that was before she had met the woman, before her son brought the young woman home and introduced them. From that very first day, they had been as close as mother and daughter could possibly be. Pretty Bird adored her daughter-in-law. Bright Eyes brought a brightness to her son’s eyes that had not been there before and she was captured by it—just as her son had been.

But now, the younger woman’s words broke her heart. “Bright Eyes, you are _not_ nothing,” she said, kneeling beside her daughter-in-law and forcibly drawing the woman into her arms. Bright Eyes resisted for only a moment, then she went slack, letting her mother-in-law rock her lovingly, as if she were a babe at her breast. “You are my son’s beloved; now you are my daughter and the mother of my grandchildren.”

Bright Eyes wanted to argue, but all she could do was weep, her face contorted with pain. “But I miss him so much, Pretty Bird,” she gasped. “How can I live without Windwalker?” she asked, forgetting that she was not supposed to mention the name of someone who had died.

“It is very hard,” Pretty Bird said, patting and rocking her grieving daughter. “Do you forget that it was _I_ who gave birth to him?”

Bright Eyes was silent for a moment. “No, I have not forgotten.”

“And do you think that Little Porcupine and Little Snowbird wish to lose both father _and_ mother?”

Bright Eyes took a deep breath, then pushed away from the older woman. Fresh tears wet her cheeks. “No, I was not thinking, Nahko’e.[2] You are right. As painful as this is, I must move on. But...where do I s-start?”

Pretty Bird smiled with relief. “Have you noticed the horses tied outside your lodge?”

Bright Eyes frowned, but managed to shake her head. “No. Who has made such an offer?”

“Can you not guess?”

“Many Horses?”

Pretty Bird smiled and nodded. “It _is_ our custom. Did you forget?”

“No...I did not forget,” Bright Eyes said. “But...but, it is too soon.”

“No, it is not too soon,” Pretty Bird said with a shake of her head. “You need someone to hunt for you and your children. You need a husband.”

Bright Eyes shook her head stubbornly. It _was_ too soon. “Little Porcupine can do some of our hunting...he will be close to manhood soon...and I can help him. My husband did teach me to hunt. He said that it was not something I needed to learn, but I insisted.” Her sad eyes took on a proud dreamy look.

Pretty Bird smiled. She remembered all too well her son’s frustration about his wife’s desire to learn to hunt in the way of the People. “Yes, you are a good hunter, Bright Eyes,” she conceded, thinking of all the times her son’s woman had returned with a fresh kill when others came back empty-handed. “No one can argue with that. But, what about protection? A woman should have a man to protect her and her children. Many Horses would be honored to be the one to do it. He has much respect for you and he loves your children like they were his own.”

Bright Eyes almost laughed. “But Many Horses does not _love_ me,” she blurted out. “It would not be right. And...Thunder Woman would not like it.”

Now it was Pretty Bird who frowned. “No, you are right, Thunder Woman is not happy about Many Horses’ offer, but it is the way. A man always takes his brother’s wife if his brother dies. Thunder Woman will have to accept it.”

“But _I_ do not love Many Horses, Pretty Bird. Not like _that_ ,” Bright Eyes sobbed and dove back into her thick furs. “Oh Pretty Bird...I want my Mama.”

Pretty Bird stared at the younger woman who had lived with the People for the last seven years. Pretty Bird had never once made an attempt to learn her daughter-in-law’s language, thinking that she was too old to learn all the new words and strange sounds, but somehow she knew the younger woman was asking for her true mother, the woman who had given her life.

Slowly, sadly, she pushed herself back to leave.

 

[1]. heehe’e (héehe’e) – yes

[2]. nahko’e – mother


	2. Chapter 2

** CHAPTER TWO **

“Hova’ahane![1] I will marry the woman, but I will not take her back to her people,” the man said angrily. Many Horses wasn’t a fan of the white man.

“But she does not love you,” Nightwalker replied. “And you do not love her.”

“Neho’e,[2] she was my brother’s wife. I will take her.”

The older man frowned and glanced over at his son’s _first_ wife. She was making it quite obvious how she felt about her husband offering to marry his brother’s wife. “Even if Thunder Woman throws you out of her tepee?”

Many Horses cast a look of frustration at his wife, then crossed his arms over his chest. “I cannot help it if my wife is angry. What I do is the right thing.”

Nightwalker glanced over at his son’s first wife and the younger woman that sat with her. “And what about Happy Woman? What of your promise to her?”

“I will take her too...just as I promised.” He did not look over at the two women, but knew Happy Woman sat with her sister, Thunder Woman. “She will not mind.”

“No, you are right, Happy Woman probably would not mind, but Thunder Woman certainly does. And so does Bright Eyes. She does not like causing this strife.”

“Humph!”

Nightwalker saw the stubborn set to his son’s shoulders and sighed. “Just consider what I have said, nae’ha.[3] Sometimes doing the right thing isn’t right for everyone.” The older man then stood up and started away. “You must consider this, and then listen to your heart.”

Many Horses watched his father leave. Their conversation bothered him greatly. He did not _want_ to marry his brother’s wife, but what choice did he have? It was their custom. He looked over at Bright Eyes’ tepee and the horses he had tied there. He could not help the small smile that crept across his lips. He could see that she had lengthened the ties so that they could reach the grass behind her tepee, though she had not actually given them any food. She knew that feeding his horses was acceptance of his proposal. And he knew that she did not want to marry him, but that her heart was too soft when it came to animals. He could just imagine how painful it had been for her to kill her husband’s favorite pony, but she had done it anyway, so that he could travel with it in the next world. Many Horses’ smile was grim as he thought about his dead brother and the woman he had asked to be his wife.

_She will make me a good second wife,_ he told himself. _I just have to convince her._

He smiled again, this time a more calculating one. The smile was still on his face when Bright Eyes appeared at the line of trees. She was carrying a load of wood and heading for her tepee. As she neared, he could see that she had tears in her eyes. She _always_ seemed to have tears shining brightly in her large, sky-blue eyes, he thought. She was so full of sadness now, but at least she was getting the things done that needed doing. He respected her for that, but worried all the same. This was not the same woman that had come to their camp seven years before. Slowly, the man rose and went to her.

“Can I help you?” Many Horses asked as he intercepted her.

Bright Eyes jerked to a stop and looked up at him, then quickly blinked back her tears and raised her brows. “Help me do what?” she asked. “ _Women’s_ work?” She clutched at her load and shook her head. “No. I told Nahko’e I could take care of myself. I intend to prove that I can.”

Many Horses frowned. He knew that she didn’t mean to be rude, though it came out that way. For a moment he didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t had many reasons to speak to her in the past, but things were different now. He decided to change the subject by smiling and gesturing behind him. “I see that my horses are not starving.”

Despite her sadness, Bright Eyes could not help the amusement that shone in her eyes. “No, they are not. They have...found grass to eat,” she said and shifted on her feet.

“Humph!” Many Horses crossed his arms over his chest. “I cannot take you back to your people, Bright Eyes,” he finally said.

The light once again left her eyes. “And I cannot marry a man that I do not love,” she said, pushing past him and starting toward her tepee. He sighed, then followed her.

 

Bright Eyes put one foot through the opening, then bent and entered her lodging. She deposited the wood where it was usually kept, then picked up kindling and knelt to build a fire. Without invitation, Many Horses entered behind her and closed the flap so that they could talk undisturbed. Then he took the wood out of the woman’s hand.

Bright Eyes sat on her feet, hands twisting in her lap, and watched her brother-in-law start her fire. _He is a_ good _man, one who wants to do the right thing,_ she told herself. And she wished—with all the pieces of her broken heart—that she could accept his most generous offer, but...she could not. Many Horses was _not_ Windwalker; he never would be.

_Windwalker_ , she thought painfully. _I miss you_ so _much_. Tears streamed down her face as she stared blindly. She could remember the day she met him so clearly, as if it were yesterday.

 

_“Ouch!” she exclaimed, watching helplessly as her packages scattered on the ground at her feet. Without looking, she stooped to gather them up again, getting angrier with each one. She wasn’t happy that her father had told her to bring their things to the wagon while her brothers had been allowed to stay inside with him, especially since one of her brothers had offered to do the chore. She had thought her father knew she’d rather help with the sale of the cattle...but apparently not. She was furious! Straightening up, she addressed the inconsiderate person who had plowed into her._

_“What the hell do you think you’re...?” she started, but paused when her eyes focused on the person standing in front of her. He was an Indian. “W-who are you?”_

_No answer. She frowned and, wondering if he spoke any English, she tried to remember what she had heard about the Indians in the area; they seemed relatively friendly, but you could never be too sure._

_“Speak English?” she questioned sarcastically. She was still angry. It was her father’s doing, but she was taking it out on the Indian. She knew this to be wrong, but she didn’t stop herself. When he didn’t answer, she asked again, this time opening and closing her hand to imitate talking while she spoke the word English._

_“Of course I speak English, you silly little girl!” the young man spat angrily._

Girl? _she thought as she hoisted her packages under one arm and positioned her opposite hand on her hip. “Then why didn’t you answer me?” she asked tersely, eyeing him up and down. He stood a few feet in front of her, stiff and unbending, legs set wide apart, with a wishfully menacing look in his eyes. She could tell that he wanted her to be afraid of him, but she wasn’t. She had no reason to be, her father and brothers were inside, just a scream away, though she’d never scream—but he didn’t know that. A long pause followed and she thought he would ignore her—_ again _. Then finally, his words came. But they were full of derision._

_“Because a man does not answer the questions of a girl.”_

_Her eyes narrowed. “_ Girl _? Just who do you think you’re talking to? And where do you think you are?” she demanded._

_Nothing again._

_“Look,_ boy _,” she said, emphasizing the last word. “You!” she pointed at him, “are in a_ white _man’s town.” She spread her arms and gestured about. “You can’t just walk around here like—”_

_“This,” he cut in and, gesturing about in the same way she had, said, “is a place of trading...not a village. And I am not a boy,” he boasted._

_“Oh really?” She eyed him up and down. His waist-length black hair, which was tied back into two loose braids on either side of his head by a red strip of leather, hung over his dusky bronze bare chest. His chest was hairless, his stomach flat, both well muscled. He wore a narrow, knee-length strip of cloth over plain-looking buckskin leggings, and highly decorated moccasins. For a moment she stared at the intricate beadwork that covered the tops of his feet; someone had clearly spent hours working on it._ His mother perhaps _? she wondered briefly, then her mind went on._

_As her eyes traveled back up his person, she noticed other things as well; a large, sheathed knife secured to a well-worn belt, several metal bracelets on both of his wrists, a small pouch dangling from around his neck, and a colorful armband around his large upper arm. The blue beaded band matched that of his moccasins perfectly. She also noticed a pair of eagle feathers that stuck up at the back of his head. Finally, her eyes came to rest on his; they were blacker than black, and narrowed condescendingly as she appraised him._

_“You don’t look_ any _older than I am,” she mused aloud. “How old are you anyway?”_

_No answer again. She wasn’t surprised._

_“Fine! Don’t answer me! You haven’t answered one of my questions, why start now?” Abruptly, she spun around. “Indian man no speak white woman!” she said haltingly as she started away from him._ Bastard _! she thought silently as she went._

_“You carry firestick?” he questioned as she walked away. “A gun?” It was tucked at the back of her riding skirt and he was clearly interested._

_She spun around to face him again, pushing at a loose strand of long, blonde hair. “Yes, white woman carry weapon!” she said angrily—sarcastically. A smile touched his features, but she didn’t see it. He was studying her, that much she could tell. Finally he spoke again._

_“White women do not usually know how to use weapons.”_

_“Well,_ this _one does,” she snapped._

_“Humph!” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her._

_She stared back hard. She felt like she was on display, like she was one of the saloon girls in town, and she didn’t like it. She knew she was not a typical townswoman. Her hair was not neatly combed and attached closely to her head, like the other women. It was usually tied back or stuffed under a man’s hat. She wore riding boots, and plain shirts and skirts, instead of the fancies that other young ladies were wearing. Those things just weren’t practical for a woman who worked on a ranch. Of course, she owned them, but to her mind, she didn’t need or want them. Today she was wearing a pair of scuffed boots, a dusty white shirt, a tan split skirt, a brown hat, which dangled at her back, and a pair of worn out leather gloves that she used while roping. And, she carried a gun._

_“Seven and ten,” he finally said._

_She blinked, then gave him a confused frown. “What?”_

_“You asked how many years I have seen. I have seen seven-teen summers.”_

_“Oh.” A guarded smile crossed her lips. Glancing around, to make sure her father had not come out of the one building that made up the trading post, she pulled off a glove and stuck out her hand, then gave the man her name. When he took her hand, even reluctantly, a ripple of—something—went through her stomach. Something she had never felt before. It made her forget that she had been angry only seconds before._

_“It’s nice to meet you, mister...ummm.... What is it that I should call you?” she asked. The man frowned, and she waited as he studied her. He stared into her blue eyes with his inky black ones; it made her nervous. But it also caused her stomach to do strange things. She looked down at his hand; it still held hers. She knew she should pull it out of his grasp, but she didn’t want to. Looking up into his eyes again, she would have bet that he was going to ignore her question again, but he must have come to some conclusion because, finally, he said, “Haa’hae’ameohtse.” Then he released her hand. And, for some reason, she didn’t know why, she felt bereft at the loss._

_She blinked and pursed her lips. “That’s your name?” He nodded. “Well,_ that’s _a mouthful, isn’t it?” She tried not to laugh. It would have been nervous laughter, but he may not know that and she didn’t want to anger him, now that he was speaking to her. Instead, she attempted to repeat what he had said. He repeated his name again, and then again. She finally got it. Then she frowned again. “What does your name mean?” she asked him._

_“Wind-walker,” he said, separating his name into two words._

_“I see,” she said with a nod, then repeated her own name at his request. “My name is Hannah...Hannah Kristín Cooke.”_

_“What does_ your _name mean?” he asked her._

_She blushed and bit her lip, embarrassed that she didn’t know the meaning of her own name, or whether it even meant anything at all. “Hmm, I don’t rightly know. I have never thought about it before. I will have to ask my...” she began, but then she stopped and looked back over her shoulder. Her brother, Michael, was heading toward them. She was thankful it was that particular brother, only he would understand._

_“I-I have to go,” she said then, flashing the man her brilliant white teeth and sparklingly bright eyes before hurrying away. “It was good to meet you, Windwalker,” she called out over her shoulder, then disappeared with the man that had come for her._

_“And you as well, Bright Eyes,” he whispered in his own tongue._

 

Bright Eyes smiled in spite of the pain. It was a good memory of the man with whom she’d fallen in love.

When Many Horses looked up at her his cheeks were wet with tears as well. Bright Eyes’ heart went out to him. She knew that he was suffering as much as she and she almost reconsidered. _Could she be happy being his wife?_ she asked herself. _Would she be_ unhappy _?_ she pondered further. She didn’t know, but she _did_ know that she couldn’t do it.

She shook her head. “You don’t love me, Many Horses, and I don’t love you. Not like _that_.”

“I _am_ fond of you, Bright Eyes. You are a good woman. You could be an asset to my tepee. And I could _learn_ to love you. Could you not learn to love _me_?”

She smiled. “Perhaps... _brother_.” But then she shook her head again. “But I want to see my mother again. And I want my mother to see my children, to see _Windwalker’s_ children.

The man’s intake of breath told her the mention of his brother’s name disturbed him, but he did not mention it. “I cannot take you there.”

She smiled again. This time it was a sad smile. “I understand. And I will not ask it of you. We can make it on our own,” she said, grasping his arm and squeezing it gently, lovingly. It was the first time she had ever touched him and he almost pulled away from her.

“I-I should go,” he stammered, feeling nervous and then angry with himself for acting like a child. But he did not move to leave.

She smiled her understanding and removed her hand so that he could go. When he turned to leave she called out to him. “Many Horses!” she cried. Going to him and throwing her arms around his neck, she let her tears fall again. “I am sorry,” she whispered, pressing her wet cheek against his.

Many Horses stiffly held his brother’s wife, confused by her behavior. This is definitely inappropriate, he thought, but he continued to hold her and let her cry in his arms. He wondered if her people often did this. He supposed he’d never know. Then she pulled back and brushed away the tears on her cheeks.

“I am sorry I cannot marry you, Many Horses. And I am sorry if my refusal has caused you embarrassment. Can you ever forgive me?” she asked.

“Between us, there is nothing to forgive, Bright Eyes,” he said sincerely and then he frowned. “You are a good woman. You made my brother very happy and for that I will always be grateful. I can only hope that, _someday_ , you find such happiness again.”

**~oOo~**

When Many Horses finally left Bright Eyes’ lodge, he took his horses with him and everyone knew he had withdrawn his offer of marriage to the newly widowed woman. Some people wondered what had taken place and if it was she who’d refused, or he who had changed his mind, but no one had missed how well his horses had looked when he took them away, and no one questioned Bright Eyes’ respect for her brother-in-law. 

[1]. hova’ahane (hová’âháne) – no

[2]. neho’e – father

[3]. nae’ha – my son


	3. Chapter 3

** CHAPTER THREE **

Thunder Woman watched as Bright Eyes walked swiftly through camp. She had been furious about Many Horses’ proposal and had considered throwing his belongings out of her tepee. And though she had known it was not Bright Eyes’ fault, she had been angry with the woman anyway. She did not know what happened between her husband and his brother’s wife, but she was now quite pleased by the turn of events. She would not have to share her husband with this woman. She was even slightly embarrassed by her actions of the last few days, though she would not admit it, even to herself. Sharing Many Horses with her own sister was one thing. Sharing him with _this_ woman was quite another, even though she had always called her friend.

Thunder Woman frowned as Bright Eyes neared, then she stood up and crossed her arms over her chest when Bright Eyes stopped in front of her. “Bright Eyes.”

“It is a beautiful day,” Bright Eyes said, hoping to dispel the hostility that radiated from Thunder Woman. “Is it not?”

Thunder Woman sighed. She could not help but smile, though it was guarded. She had always liked the wife of Many Horses’ younger brother. It was only recent events that had made them rivals. “Yes, this day _is_ beautiful,” she replied.

Bright Eyes shifted on her feet and held out her arms. “I came to bring Many Horses a gift.”

“Oh?” Thunder Woman asked, raising a brow with uncertainty.

“Yes...I would like him to have Wind...I mean...my husband’s knife,” she said, choking back a sob. “This was his favorite knife. I think Many Horses should have it.”

Thunder Woman nodded and accepted the sheathed knife.

“And...I would like him to have my husband’s...new pipe. He never used it...I buried him with an old one,” she gasped and shoved the pipe at her sister-in-law, then covered her mouth with her hands and looked away, trying desperately to control her sorrow and the flood that threatened to flow. “I am sorry, Thunder Woman. I did not mean to make trouble in your lodge.” She wanted to say more, but the words would not come so she slowly turned to leave. Suddenly, Thunder Woman placed a hand on her arm.

“Bright Eyes, you know that I have always liked you?”

“Yes, I know that.” Bright Eyes was nodding, tears streaming down her face.

“It is just that...sometimes...an older woman does not want to share her lodge with someone so young...and beautiful,” Thunder Woman said in an attempt to save face. Bright Eyes didn’t say anything and Thunder Woman sighed, knowing that wasn’t entirely true; she was going to be sharing her lodge and husband with her own sister, who was even younger than Bright Eyes and nearly as beautiful. “I know that I am not such a good woman. I have embarrassed Many Horses and I have hurt your feelings, and I am sorry.”

Bright Eyes smiled. “No, Thunder Woman. Do not have sorrow. I would not want to share my husband either. And you _are_ a good woman. Many Horses is very lucky to have you. Please know that he did not _want_ to marry me. He only made such an offer because it is the way of the People. You will always be the woman he loves. You know that.”

Thunder Woman smiled. “Yes. I do know that. I will give him your gifts. He will be pleased to have them.”

**~oOo~**

After her visit with Thunder Woman, Bright Eyes almost felt like herself again. It relieved her greatly that she had made peace with her friend and that there were no hard feelings. Just that made her steps feel lighter as she headed for the river to bathe.

She had stopped briefly at her tepee—to get a clean dress—then, turning toward the trees, she unconsciously headed for the secluded pool that had once been her favorite place to be alone with her husband. Walking slowly, Bright Eyes picked her way through the foliage, then sidestepped a few large rocks, climbed up and over a felled tree, and into a clearing. She smiled sadly then, remembering all the stolen moments at this very spot, remembering her husband chasing her playfully through the trees and how he always caught her about the waist and swung her around. She remembered their heated kisses as they stripped each other, desperate to connect their bodies. She remembered so many things...how warm and secure she felt in his arms, how delicious his hands felt as they caressed her lovingly, how their legs entwined as they pressed their bodies together hungrily. Yes, she remembered how happy she had once been, but it seemed a lifetime ago.

Sighing, she untied her dress and let it drop to the ground, then waded into the pool. The water was cold, raising gooseflesh, but Bright Eyes dunked under anyway. It was refreshing. Then, making short work of it, she picked up a handful of sand and scrubbed her body clean. Her skin tingled when she was finished and it was invigorating. It had even warmed her some. Slowly, she headed for the river’s edge and stretched out on its moss-covered bank to dry in the sun. Lying there, she closed her eyes to daydream of happier times. It was not long before she was asleep.

 

_“Do you love me?” Windwalker asked as he leaned forward to take her lips with his. She nodded and moaned an uh-ha, and wove her hands into his long, black hair. She loved it when he wore it free, and she loved what he was doing to her. Windwalker pushed his tongue into her mouth, then ran it along her parted lips. He nibbled on her chin and jawline, then withdrew slightly._

_“How_ much _do you love me?” he asked her, then dipped to nuzzle her neck._

_Bright Eyes giggled. His kisses always tickled there. “Like the stars,” she answered. It was the same answer she always gave him._

_“And how_ long _will you love me?” he asked. He had moved just enough to suckle a breast and to run a hand over the smooth tanned flesh of her hip, but he never took his eyes away of hers._

_“Until every star is no more,” she replied. She wanted him to know that her love was infinite. Bright Eyes watched as he moved lower, as he trailed kisses down her stomach and kissed the top of her mound._

_Grinning, he gently pushed her thighs apart and watched as her eyes closed and her head fell back. Only then did he take his eyes off hers, his gaze going to her place of pleasure, to the small pink node of flesh that he so loved to call his own. Wrapping his arms around her hips, he pulled her closer, then dipped and tasted her. She tasted warm and clean, and welcoming, and as he drew lazy circles with his practiced tongue, she wriggled and moaned, and grew very wet—very ready. When she jerked spasmodically, then trembled uncontrollably, Windwalker moved to fill her. Pushing into her, he felt sheathed in her love. And when she wrapped her legs around his waist and began moving her hips in rhythm with his, he groaned loudly and pushed in deeper. Then pulling out, he plunged in again and again, sliding in and out of her until he thought he would burst—or go crazy with need. And she always knew when he could take no more. “Now,” she whispered. “Oh_ please _now,” she groaned. And that is when he finished, filling her well with his seed. Feeling weak and slightly numb, he collapsed on her, his spent member still within her._

_It was always the same, always when she begged him and never before._

 

Opening her eyes, Bright Eyes squinted hard against the sunlight, automatically raising an arm to fend off its blinding rays. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and, feeling wetness there, she realized she had been crying. She struggled to focus on where she was. When a slight breeze caused a shiver, Bright Eyes looked down at her nakedness, then she glanced around. She was in the clearing by the pool...the pool that had been hers and _Windwalker’s_. Then it came back to her; her husband was dead and she was leaving the People. She was leaving by choice, of course, but it was still painful. Her tears began to fall again, and with them, she fell back and closed her eyes. This was _not_ what she’d always dreamed her life would be.

_Dreams_ , she mused. _What good are they?_

Then she frowned. Dreams. She sat up.

_A_ dream. She’d had a dream, she knew. But what had it been about? Then a throbbing between her thighs called her attention to the wetness there. That was all it took. The throbbing was all too familiar. Her dream suddenly came back to her. It was like a flood, a river flowing wildly, raging out of control, but with nowhere to go. She dropped her head into her hands and moaned softly.

“ _Windwalker_ ,” she whispered. “I miss you _so much_ , my husband.” She let out a sob, promising herself that it would be the last one, that she would try harder, that she would _be_ stronger. And with that, she brushed at her tears and tried to think about home, her parent’s home. In just a couple weeks she would be on her father’s ranch again. It was a frightening thought, considering how she had left it, but she was anxious to get there, to see everyone again. For the most part, she hadn’t allowed herself to think about them, but she _had_ missed them. There had always been something missing.

Bright Eyes’ thoughts turned to the people she would be leaving behind. She loved them. They were her family now too and she would miss _them_ once she had gone, but it was time that she left. It was time to go home.


	4. Chapter 4

** CHAPTER FOUR **

_Late May_

Nearly everyone made excuses to visit Bright Eyes over the next few days, good friends, and some who had not always been so friendly. Even people she hardly knew came to say goodbye, and most brought gifts. No one seemed to want her to leave, and that made her heart sing. But they all understood why she was going; it was just too painful to stay.

On the morning that she planned to depart, Bright Eyes sent her son to the river to bathe with the men, then brought her daughter over to visit with her grandmother. It would be a long time, if ever, before they would be able to see their loved ones and Bright Eyes wanted them to make the most of the time they had.

Once her children were gone, Bright Eyes set to work immediately; she had much to do if she were to head out before the sun was high. Carefully, she went through her belongings, deciding what she needed and what she did not. There were many items she knew she should leave behind. One of them her husband’s newest warshirt. She had decorated it herself, using her own hair. That in itself made it different; no other man had a warshirt with white blonde hair streaming from it. Windwalker had been proud to have it. But it was a warshirt he hadn’t yet worn and one he never would. Folding it lovingly, she set it with the pile she would take, then picked up the recently repaired moccasins that she had just finished the day he had been fatally wounded. She would have no need for them, but she set them on top of the warshirt anyway and looked at an old breechclout Windwalker hadn’t worn in years. I will take this too, she thought tearfully. It is too soon to part with his things.

After making her choices, she packed everything she was taking and loaded the very same travois that had carried her husband back to camp, then prepared three others to carry the large tepee she had shared with her husband and children. She didn’t think she would need it once she returned to her parents, but she wasn’t ready to give it up just yet. It had been her home for the last seven years; she had to take it.

Bright Eyes had decided to take nine horses with her. Along with the four packhorses that would carry all that she owned, she would take the horse that Windwalker had recently given to Little Porcupine, a gentle filly that would one day be Little Snowbird’s, and Whirlwind, her own favorite horse. She would also take one of her husband’s hunting horses and one of his war ponies. She did this because he had loved his horses and it was a way to keep part of him with her. Some might have thought it strange that a woman would keep so many horses, but no one questioned her decision.

As for the rest of Windwalker’s horses, she had given them all away. Seven of them had gone to Windwalker’s parents, as a thank you for all they had given to her in the seven years she had lived with the People. Eleven horses had gone to Many Horses; six to honor the years he had accepted her presence and five to make up for refusing to become his wife. She still felt bad about that and was glad he was not angry. She had also given seven horses to Flying Woman, Windwalker’s sister, seven horses to Flying Hawk, Windwalker’s younger brother, and one horse to each one of Windwalker’s nieces and nephews; there were five of them. And finally, she had asked that the remainder of her husband’s horses be given to the families that needed them most. There were thirty-three left to give away. She would leave that for Many Horses to take care of, once she was gone.

When her tepee was empty, she rolled up the furs that covered the floor, piled them outside, then began dismantling her tepee. After pulling out and piling the pins that secured the hide tepee closed, Bright Eyes went around, removing the wooden pegs that held down the tepee cover. When she began to fold the heavy cover back, Thunder Woman came over to assist. The cover was quickly removed, folded, and set aside with the furs. The only thing left was taking down the poles. The two women did this, then arranged them behind the packhorses and loaded them up. Now she was ready.

**~oOo~**

“You do not have to go, Wet Face,” Nightwalker said, touching his daughter-in-law’s cheek, then taking her hands in his. “This is your home. We want you to know that it always will be.”

Bright Eyes looked around. Windwalker’s family stood before her, along with several others and Bright Eyes could not help but smile at them, but everyone could see that the light had gone out of her eyes. “You have given me a new name,” she said flatly, squeezing the man’s hands.

“Yes. It better suits you now,” the older man said with a shrug. He looked sad.

Bright Eyes thought about her new name and nodded; he was right, her eyes were no longer bright and there was not a day that went by that her face was not wet. “Koovenehe,” she said, saying her new name to get used to its sound. Then she looked up at her father-in-law.

”It has been a good home, neho’eehe.[1] I _have_ been happy here. _Very_ happy here. But my husband is dead and my heart is empty now. I need to see my mother. I need to see my mother _and_ father, my _vo’kome_[2] mother and father.”

Nightwalker nodded. “We understand Wet Face. We do not like it, but we do understand. And we will miss you.”

Wet Face smiled again, but bowed her head. “I thank you.”

Pretty Bird then broke in. “We will miss you, Wet Face...and we will welcome you back at any time.”

Wet Face reached for her mother-in-law and held the older woman to her breast. “And we will miss you too, Pretty Bird.”

Pretty Bird nodded and stepped back. Many Horses had come forward. “I would still marry you, Wet Face,” he said. “There is still time to change your mind.”

Wet Face’s eyes went to Thunder Woman; she stood at her husband’s side. There was no animosity in her posture and her eyes shined with tears. Wet Face knew that if she chose to, she could stay and marry Many Horses and Thunder Woman would share her lodge without complaint.

“I know that you would, and I thank you. But I must go.”

Many Horses frowned. “And you will be careful? There are many dangers out there, especially for women.”

Wet Face smiled. “I do not worry, so you should not. Besides, we will have these fine young men to protect us,” she said, gesturing to Many Horses’ youngest brother, Flying Hawk, his two young friends, and another man, Brave Wolf, her dead husband’s closest friend. It had been decided that a lone woman traveling with two children and nine horses would not be safe, and that it would be too difficult for her to lead the four heavily loaded packhorses on her own. That was when Flying Hawk and his friends offered to take her across the plains to her people. The young men wanted to prove their bravery and figured it would be a good adventure. And feeling that he owed it to his dead friend, Brave Wolf agreed to go as well, to watch over the young party.

Wet Face said goodbye to nearly everyone, then placed Little Snowbird in front of Little Porcupine and went to her own horse. Grabbing Whirlwind’s mane, she deftly swung herself to the mare’s back and nudged the horse forward.

“Wait!” a woman screamed.

Wet Face turned to see Antelope running toward her. Antelope had been one of the ones who hadn’t always accepted her presence among the People. The younger woman had hoped that Windwalker would ask _her_ to marry him and had been sorely disappointed, almost angry, when he had returned with the white woman he planned to marry. She had even gone so far as to attempt breaking them up. But, of course, it hadn’t worked. In the end, she had seen the good in Wet Face’s heart and had fallen in love with her as so many others had.

Blinded by her tears, Antelope almost stumbled into Whirlwind, but steadied herself just in time. “Wait,” she said breathlessly. “I have something for you.” She clutched at the package she held.

Wet Face slid from her horse to stand next to the woman. “What have you for me, my friend?”

Antelope pushed at her tears and tried to smile as she shoved a small, hide-covered gift into her friend’s hands. “Open it.”

Her eyes going to the package, Wet Face turned it over and slowly unwrapped it. Her eyes filled with tears; it was a small, decorated bag. She knew its purpose immediately. It was for carrying her beads.

“I know that you already have one,” Antelope explained. “But I wanted to give you something to remember me by.” The young woman blushed as the memory of her youthful treachery went through her mind. “May young, jealous hands never take this from you.”

Wet Face grinned through her tears. “Thank you,” she said, pulling the bead bag to her chest. “I will never forget you...I could not.” Wet Face quickly pulled a beaded necklace from around her neck and offered it to the young woman. “Please, take this.”

Antelope’s eyes filled. Everyone knew from whom the necklace had come; Windwalker had given it to his wife, and now it was to be _hers_.

Wet Face saw that the young woman wanted to reject the gift—not because she _didn’t_ want the necklace, but because she _did_ want it. She would not do that though, because that would be rude.

Deciding to put an end to such thoughts, Wet Face hugged the young woman, then climbed onto her horse again and silently turned to go.

They were on their way.

**~oOo~**

The People stood watching them go until they were out of sight, then they gradually went back to their daily happenings. They would miss the woman and her children and hoped they’d return one day, but village life would go on without them.

Many Horses stared out in the direction the travelers had gone long after the rest had stopped. The frown that creased his brow was deep as he questioned his decision to let Wet Face leave with only four men to protect her and her children. _But what could I do?_ he asked himself. _She would not stay._

“Are you really going to let Wet Face ride away without a man at her side?” Thunder Woman demanded, hands on hips.

“Did you not see her ride off with _four_ men?” the man replied, poking a finger in the direction the group had gone.

“Humph!” Thunder Woman shook her head. “Four _young_ men. It is not the same.”

Many Horses turned to face his wife. She had been most disagreeable after he had offered to marry Wet Face, but he had understood her anger. What he didn’t understand now was her concern for his brother’s wife after she had made such a big fuss. He sighed.

“What do you want of me, wife?” he asked curtly. “First you are angry that I wanted her for a wife, and now you are angry that I am watching her leave. What would you have me do?”

Thunder Woman smiled. She had indeed confused the man. “You are right, I did not want to share my tepee with Wet Face, but that does not mean that I do not like her or wish to see harm come to her. If she leaves here alone, I will worry. I do not wish to see her leaving at all, but since she insists...I would have you take her home...so that she gets there safely. Are you going to just let a woman and two children leave with only four young braves to look after them?” she asked heatedly, gesturing toward those that had disappeared from sight.

“Flying Hawk would not like to know that you doubt his ability to look after a sister,” Many Horses said with a frown. “He is a warrior.”

“Yes, he is...and so is Brave Wolf...and Two Quivers and Squint Eye, but that does not make them as experienced as you,” she countered.

“Brave Wolf is nearly as experienced as I,” he said with a frown. The man, who had been Windwalker’s best friend, had agreed to accompany the three younger braves in his place and he was grateful.

“He is but one man, my husband.” She paused. “And Brave Wolf does not like to make war.”

Many Horses frowned. “Nor do I, wife!” he snapped. When she didn‘t say anything he went on. “Brave Wolf is a warrior. He will fight for the lives of women and children if necessary. He has many times. You know that.”

Thunder Woman raised a brow. “Yes, when necessary he has. But he often chooses to stay in camp with the women and children.”

Many Horses scowled. “I did not know you held such contempt for my brother’s friend.”

“I do not. Brave Wolf is a good man, and a valiant warrior...when he chooses to be. I am just saying that there might be others more suited to this task.” She paused. “Am I wrong? Tell me I am wrong and I will say no more.”

Many Horses thought for a moment. He could not fault her logic and it irked him. “No, you are not wrong,” he conceded.

“And how would you feel if Wet Face and the children, or even one or more of the men are injured or killed, because of inexperience?” she asked. He did not answer. “Though I do not wish to be separated from you, you should be with them, my husband. It is the right thing to do. You know that it is.”

Glancing down the path Wet Face had taken, he let out his breath. “I would be ashamed if anything happened to them,” he finally said. He paused then and she watched him as he thought about the situation. “You are right...I should go with them. I will go, but I will just follow them...to make sure they are safe.” He sighed again hoping that would be enough. “I will get my horse. Tell my mother what I plan to do,” he said and walked off.

Thunder Woman watched him go, then went to find Pretty Bird. 

[1]. neho’eehe – my father

[2]. vo’kome - white


	5. Chapter 5

** CHAPTER FIVE **

Flying Hawk, Two Quivers and Brave Wolf sat upon their horses, on either side of Wet Face and the children, waiting for Squint Eye to return from scouting ahead. They had been away from their village for four days and had not encountered any trouble, but with each day they traveled further and further away from their stronghold, the more likely it became.

Wet Face pushed at the loose hair that tickled her face and looked out across the never-ending sea of wheat-colored grasses. The prairie stretched out as far as the eye could see, making the woman think about how insignificant she and her children were in the vast open land. And then, worried about the safety of her children, she touched the rifle Many Horses had given her and wondered what she could have been thinking. To go out into the land, _alone_ , would have been insane; she was suddenly very thankful that her brother-in-law and his friends, young as they were, had volunteered to escort her to her parent’s home.

“Squint Eye comes,” Brave Wolf announced, though it was not necessary for they could all see the other man’s approach. He appeared to be relaxed and that was a good thing. They did not want any trouble, though they were ready for it.

It only took moments for Squint Eye to reach the place where the others were waiting. “There is a copse of trees and a stream on the other side of that hill,” he informed them as soon as he was near enough. “It would be a good place to camp.”

Flying Hawk nodded and nudged his horse forward without saying a word. Everyone followed.

**~oOo~**

Many Horses trailed the others, watching them carefully and keeping his distance so that they didn’t know he was there. He was concerned that they’d run into Pawnee warriors, who seemed to be coming into Cheyenne territory in ever-increasing numbers and who killed indiscriminately, or worse, whitemen who would shoot first and then ask questions afterward, if at all. Many Horses had no intention of joining the young warriors unless he was needed. His plan was to let them handle the journey completely, if at all possible. So far, they were doing a good job.

The man watched from the distance as they headed toward the small stand of trees. And then, when they settled down for the night, so did he.

**~oOo~**

“How many days will it take to get there, Nahko’e?” Little Porcupine asked. Wet Face had just tucked her son and daughter into a buffalo hide and she was sitting beside them smiling.

“Hmm, it is hard to say,” she replied. “It has been a very long time since I have been to the home of my father. I think that it may take another five suns.”

Little Porcupine frowned. “Why has it been so long?” he asked innocently. His mother had never mentioned her own mother and father before—not even one time during his six years and he had not thought to ask about them.

Wet Face sighed and looked away for a moment. Seven years ago, at just sixteen years of age, she had left her family’s ranch under painful circumstances, and had never looked back. She knew that she had hurt her mother and was sorry about it, but she had been in love and she saw no other way. She could only hope that her mother had forgiven her. Her mother was a sweet and gentle woman with a big heart and Wet Face truly believed that her mother understood. Over the years she had thought about her often and missed her greatly, especially when she had given birth to each of her children, but this was the first time she had considered going home.

And she missed her brothers and sister as well. She had always been close to them, especially her oldest brother Michael, who was seven years her senior and who had always allowed her to follow him around. She hadn’t liked leaving home without being able to say goodbye to him, but he had always been the one to tell her she needed to follow her heart...and that was to go with Windwalker. She knew that he, at the very least, would understand.

It was only her father that concerned her now. The thought of seeing him, and having to talk to him, distressed her more than anything else. He was, after all, the reason that she’d had to run away in the first place; she was sure her father had not forgiven her and wondered if he even had the heart to. He had locked her in her bedroom when he discovered she had been sneaking off to see Windwalker. And despite all her tears and pleading her father wouldn’t even give the man she loved a chance.

_I don’t believe it!_ he had yelled at her, throwing his arms up in the air toward the ceiling. His face was bright red. _A damned filthy Injun,_ he had called him, as he left her, slamming her bedroom door and turning the lock on the outside of it. _I won’t see my daughter with an Injun!_ he had hollered outside the locked door. Wet Face remembered his anger all too clearly. She could, even now, hear his boots clunk down their upstairs hallway as he left her there, locked up in the jail of her own bedroom. She had spent four days kicking and screaming and crying, and even cursing, before someone finally came to her. She knew now just how lucky she had been to get away.

Wet Face smiled sadly. It had been her older brother James who had finally unlocked her door while their father was out mending fences in the southwest pasture. James did not understand her love for the redskin, but he also could not take all her pounding on the door or her wails behind it. He knew their father would be furious, but he had to help her.

It had been midday when Wet Face heard the click of the lock and saw the door swing open. She had stared at James in disbelief, but it only took moments for her to realize why he had done what he had. She had hugged him for what she was sure would be the last time, thanked him profusely and begged him to give her love to their mother and sister, who had gone into town that morning. And then she had bolted down the stairs and out the front door. At the time she was so upset she could see nothing beyond running away. She believed she could never forgive her father for what he had said and done, but now that she wanted to go home, she hoped they could make amends. She prayed that time would heal those wounds.

“Because my father did not want me to marry an Indian. He did not think it was right for his white daughter to love someone who was not...white,” she finally said honestly, looking into her son’s big, dark blue eyes and hoping desperately that he could understand, if only a little. “But I _loved_ your father very much...so I ran away.”

“He does not like us?” the boy asked.

“I am hoping that he feels differently now, Little Porcupine,” Wet Face replied. “It has been many years and I am hoping I can convince him to like us.”

Little Snowbird’s large blue-black eyes were wide with wonder. She knew her mother looked different than the other women in their village, but she was too young to think anything of it. Her mother was just her mother. She was beautiful and she was a good mother, and the little girl loved her. That was all that had mattered.

“We will be good, so that your father will like us,” Little Snowbird proclaimed adamantly. Little Porcupine nodded, agreeing to his sister’s promise.

“I know that you will,” Wet Face said, leaning down to kiss her son and daughter’s cheeks. “I would not expect anything different.”

“Will your mother be there too?” Little Snowbird asked. “I would like to meet my vo’kome ke’eehe.”[1]

Wet Face considered her daughter’s question and wondered if her father would even be there. After all, it had been seven years. He could have sold the ranch and moved somewhere else, though she doubted that; he loved his ranch. She frowned. Hell, he could even have been killed somehow. Any number of things could have happened to him. Suddenly she felt guilty for not even trying to find out. _What if they were all gone?_ she wondered worriedly. _How would I ever find them?_

“I hope so, Little Snowbird,” she finally said. “And I have three brothers and a sister there too.” She smiled. “My oldest brother, Michael, had just become sheriff when I left. That is like...someone in one of the People’s soldier bands. It is his job to make sure there in no trouble among the whites.”

Little Porcupine looked interested. “Does he carry a bow?”

Wet Face smiled. “No, the whites do not know how to use a bow, Nae’ha.”

The boy thought for a moment, then frowned. “But...you do, Nahko’e.” He was clearly confused.

“That is only because I came to live with the Cheyenne. I did not know how before.” She then leaned forward and lowered her voice so only her children could hear her. “Windwalker taught me, so that I could protect myself...and protect you.”

“Oh,” he said with a smile and a nod of understanding. Then he frowned again. “But, if your brother cannot use a bow, then how does he make war?”

“It is not Michael’s job to make war. There are too many others who do that. It is his job to make peace, to protect and serve the people in town. Michael does not like fighting, but he does carry a six-shooter and a rifle, just in case. And he is very good with them. It was my brother Michael who taught me how to shoot,” she said proudly.

Little Porcupine smiled. He knew that his mother was a _very_ good shot. “Will he teach _me_?” he asked hopefully.

“Maybe, but I think you need to be a little older first.”

The boy frowned. He wished he could be older now, so that his mother’s brother, My-call, could teach him to shoot a gun. He did not want to wait. “That is a strange name, Nahko’e. What does...My-call mean?”

Wet Face smiled. “It does not mean anything, Little Porcupine, not really. That is just his name. The whites don’t usually give names that have meaning, not like the People do,” she said, vaguely recalling a conversation with her mother about the meaning of names, most did have some sort of meaning, but the meanings didn‘t usually coincide with the people who had them. “My other brothers’ names are James and Hunter, and my sister is called Magen.”

“That is very strange, Nahko’e,” Little Porcupine said. “How do they come up with these names that have no meaning?”

“That’s a good question, Nae’ha. Sometimes the whites give a child the name of a relative. James and Hunter are named after my grandfathers. And Michael is my mother’s brother’s name. So those names do have meaning...to the people in my family. That is the way the Cheyenne choose names too. Pretty Bird’s mother-in-law was called Snow Bird. That is how your sister got her name. Do you remember old Snow Bird?” she asked her son. He nodded.

“And then, sometimes white parents just choose a name they like, one that sounds nice, like Voeše’e.[2] And that name seems to suit the woman as well. I have never seen Voeše’e anything but happy, have you?” Little Porcupine shook his head.

“But remember, I also said white names _usually_ have no meaning...sometimes they do. My youngest brother’s name, Hunter, has meaning.” There was no need to explain further because she said her brother’s name in Cheyenne. Little Porcupine smiled.

“Does he like to hunt?” the boy asked her.

Wet Face grinned. “Well, he was very young when I left, Nae’ha. He was only eight years old and the whites don’t need to do much hunting because they buy a lot of their food...trade for it,” she tried to explain. “But I think that he did like hunting. And fishing too. Michael used to take him whenever he could. I think that you will like my brothers, and I know that they will like you,” she said, poking her finger into his tummy. “Now, it is time for sleep. We have much ground to cover in the next few days and you will need your strength. Little Snowbird already sleeps; we must join her.”

Little Porcupine nodded and yawned. He would have liked to ask more questions, but it would have to wait. He had to admit he was tired.

**~oOo~**

Flying Hawk had been listening to Wet Face talk to her children. She seemed to have a large family; a father who didn’t like Indians, a mother and sister she hadn’t said much about, and three brothers, My-call the law-man, a brother named Jah-ames, and Hun-ter, who was close to _his own_ age. Five children, he thought—that was a lot.

Flying Hawk was still considering Wet Face’s family when she sat down at the fire beside him. He smiled at her and handed her a strip of meat. He had always been enamored with Wet Face. From the moment Windwalker brought her into their village, Flying Hawk would gladly do anything to make her happy.

“What can I do for you, Wet Face?” he asked her.

“You are already doing more than I could ever ask,” she replied with a grin.

“Humph!” he grunted.

Wet Face laughed. “You sound very much like Many Horses, do you know that?”

Flying Hawk frowned at her. “I do not know if that is a good thing or not,” he said, looking away from her and thinking about his older brother.

She smiled at him again. “It is not bad,” she said with a shake of her head. “Many Horses is a very good man.”

“Then why did you not marry him?” He had been almost as frustrated with his brother’s proposal as Thunder Woman had been, but he was too young to make such an offer himself, so there was nothing he could do but watch and wait, and wish he were older. He had been glad she turned Many Horses down, but he was also sad that she was leaving.

“Because Many Horses does not love me and I do not love Many Horses, Flying Hawk. If I marry again, it will be for love...it would not be right otherwise. But it is too soon to love anyone but Windwalker,” she said sadly as she turned to gaze into the fire. “Someday...I may love again, but not yet.”

He could only nod; she did not see that _he_ loved her. He was just a brother to her, and much too young even if he was not a brother.

“So, what can I do _for you_?” she asked, looking at him again.

“ _For me_?” he asked.

“Yes, for taking me back to my parents. What you do is very important to me, Flying Hawk. It is worth a lot. How can I repay you?”

“There is nothing I want that you can give,” he replied. “Besides, you have already given me seven of your horses. What else could a man want?” He grinned at her.

“Those horses belonged to your brother. It was only right to give them to your family, and to others that needed them. But I wish you’d try to think of something I could do for you personally.”

He smiled. “I will have to think on it.” She nodded, but didn’t think that he would. “So,” he said, looking toward the sleeping children. “I could not help but hear you talk to Little Porcupine and Little Snowbird...you have a sister and many brothers?”

She nodded. “Yes. Michael is the oldest, then James, then me, then Magen, and then Hunter. Hunter is the same age as you, I think. He was eight when I left and you were eight when I came to live with the People.”

Flying Hawk looked thoughtful. “And your father...he is angry with you for loving my brother?”

Wet Face sighed. “Yes. I’m afraid my people do not accept that a white woman could love an Indian. It is...forbidden. My father would have had Windwalker hanged, if he’d had the chance. And I’m afraid the townspeople would have gone along with it.”

Flying Hawk frowned. Was what she said true? If so, then they were all in danger. “They would do such a thing because you both loved?” She nodded sadly. “Will it be safe for Little Porcupine and Little Snowbird to live among your people?” he asked worriedly.

“My people will not hurt my children. There will be some that will not like them and many people will shun _me_...some will even hate me for what I have done, but I can take that. I will keep my children out of town if I have to. There will be no reason to take them there, other than to shop, and I can always go alone or have one of my brothers bring me what I need.”

“Or you could return to the People, if it becomes too much,” he suggested hopefully.

She smiled. “Yes...I could also do that. Nightwalker and Pretty Bird have offered that as well. And I will consider it, should the need arise. But first I _must_ see my mother. And if I can...I would like to make things right with my father. Do you understand?”

Flying Hawk nodded. “I do not like it, but I do understand. I would not like it if my father was upset with me.”

Wet Face shook her head sadly. “No, it is not a good feeling. I can only hope that he will forgive me...someday.”

Flying Hawk frowned. He believed that her father owed _her_ forgiveness, not the other way around.

**~oOo~**

The next two days were uneventful, but the day following was not. 

[1]. ke’eehe – grandma (baby talk)

[2]. Voeše’e – Happy Woman


	6. Chapter 6

** CHAPTER SIX **

They had stopped to rest and water the horses and to eat a midday meal, and were now sitting astride their ponies, ready to start out once again when Wet Face felt a chill run up her spine. She didn’t know what had caused the odd sensation; a change in wind direction, perhaps, or possibly her mount’s shift of position, or maybe it was just that strange feeling one gets occasionally when danger is near, but it was, nevertheless, real and quite alarming. Pushing back a strand of shoulder length white-blonde hair that had come loose from her now shorter braids, she glanced around and gasped.

Brave Wolf, who sat closest to her, turned at her intake of breath and saw what made her start. “Kėhaenehe!”[1] he shouted and pointed when the younger man looked up. “Pawnee!” There were six of them sitting on war ponies on the hill northeast of them.

Wet Face looked at her son. “Little Porcupine,” she said. “Take Little Snowbird and go hide. Do not come out...for any reason. We will find you.” Her son nodded and took off. That was when all hell broke loose; the Pawnee warriors on the hill let out a warcry and started toward them at a run, and before Brave Wolf could stop her, Wet Face kicked her horse hard and headed toward the Pawnee warriors. She stopped once, grabbed her rifle and fired, knocking one of the enemy off his horse. He was killed instantly. She then took a defensive position as a barrage of arrows whistled in her direction. They all landed in the ground with a _thunking_ sound, one narrowly missing her shoulder. Quickly, she turned, aimed carefully, and fired her rifle at yet another warrior. He also went down. Wet Face then looked back at the others; three of them were engaged in fights of their own. Furthest away, Squint Eye was battling a warrior hand-to-hand, and much closer to her, Brave Wolf was pulling out his tomahawk and preparing to throw. Two Quivers was firing off arrows at a Pawnee warrior who had managed to position himself behind a large tree. Indecision tore at her. She wanted to help them, but she also wanted to go after her children, to make sure they were safe. Then movement caught her eye; another Pawnee warrior was racing across the prairie, his path clearly heading for only one person. Wet Face knew then where she was needed most. Shoving her gun into the strap that held it to her horse’s side, she let out a warcry of her own and raced off to help fight the Pawnee warrior whose mad flight was set on Flying Hawk.

**~oOo~**

Wet Face was closer to her brother-in-law than the warrior was, but as she came up along side him she heard the swish of arrows and dove at the young man, taking him from his horse to the ground. They crashed hard in the grass, but not before she felt white-hot pain sear her left side. She was hit.

 

“Wet Face!” Flying Hawk exclaimed when he recovered from the fall _._ For a moment he could only stare. _Everything is happening too quickly_ , he thought with alarm. He knew the Pawnee warriors would be fast upon them, but Wet Face had an arrow protruding from her side. He focused his eyes on her. The arrow had gone in from the back and was sticking out the front, but he could immediately tell it would not be fatal; she was already trying to sit up.

“Forget me!” she commanded as she reached around behind herself and snapped off the feather-end of the arrow. “The warrior...get the warrior!”

Flying Hawk nodded and, throwing himself back up onto his pony, he was gone.

 

Wet Face watched him, then gritted her teeth and yanked the arrow out of her body, screaming loudly and collapsing to the ground again. She spent the next few moments trying to focus on something, _anything_ besides the pain rifling through her. She was just about to push herself up when the sun was blocked by someone standing over her. Much too quickly, the man grabbed a handful of her hair and raised a scalping knife. As he moved to step on her chest, to prevent her from defending herself, she kicked out as hard as she could, catching the warrior in the groin and causing him to lose his balance. He dropped his knife in the process, but his foot slammed down onto her chest as he howled in pain. He let go of her hair, but managed to smash his fist into her face anyway. The last thing she remembered seeing before passing out was the black-painted face and shaved head of the Pawnee warrior and his look of surprise as she plunged her own knife into his belly and twisted it savagely. He had collapsed on top of her, but she had no knowledge of it.

**~oOo~**

The next thing she knew, she was waking up beside a large campfire and Many Horses was kneeling over her. She bolted up, almost hitting her head on his.

“Little Porcupine! Little Snowbird!” she exclaimed. “We have to find them!”

“Calm yourself, Ve’otse’e,”[2] Many Horses commanded, pushing her back down. “Little Porcupine and Little Snowbird are safe. They are here and they are fine. They are sleeping. It is you who needs the rest now. Close your eyes,” he said firmly.

Wet Face blinked, then following the man’s gentled command, she let her eyes droop closed as she tried to relax. “What happened?” she finally whispered as she brought her hand up to her bruised cheek.

“You were attacked by six Pawnee warriors. Do you not remember?”

For a moment she could remember nothing. Then suddenly, as images of the fight returned to her, her eyes flew open and, ignoring her severely throbbing side, she struggled to sit once again. “Flying Hawk! Where is Flying Hawk? I was trying to save Flying Hawk.” She would never forgive herself if he had been killed trying to take her back to the home of her birth when she could have stayed with the People and married his brother.

“I am here, Ve’otse’e.” Flying Hawk placed a restraining hand on her shoulder and eased her back down. “We all made it and the Pawnee are all gone.” He smiled. “Thanks to you.”

She sighed and closed her eyes, then gritted her teeth as a flash of heat ripped though her body. She took several steadying breaths, then opened her eyes again. “ _Ve’otse’e_? You have changed my name again?”

The two men grinned down at her. “Yes. It better suits you now.”

Warpath Woman, they were now calling her. She could almost laugh, despite how much she hurt. She had never heard of a woman’s name being changed so much, but thinking about what she had just been through, she could not help but smile up at them.

“You should rest now,” Many Horses said. “It has been a long day.”

Ve’otse’e only nodded and closed her eyes. She did not think to ask why Many Horses was with them, but she was glad he was there.

**~oOo~**

When the sun rose the next morning and awareness came to her, Ve’otse’e groaned and opened one of her eyes. Touching her tender face she realized the other was swollen shut, and then she remembered the previous day. As she tried to sit up, she had to grit her teeth against the burning feeling that spread through her middle. Reaching for the afflicted area, she realized that someone had carefully wrapped up her wound to staunch the bleeding and provide support to help with the pain. But it still ached dreadfully. She fought the tiny tears that threatened to fall as she fought herself into a sitting position.

“Ve’otse’e, you are awake,” Brave Wolf said with a smile. He was bare-chested and she could see that he had been wounded in the fight as well. It made her feel guilty.

“Oh, Brave Wolf, you are injured,” she said trying to go to him. All she could do was crawl in his direction. He grinned.

“Do not worry about me, Ve’otse’e. I look much better than _you_ ,” he said, assessing her blackened and swollen face and knowing she had taken an arrow for Flying Hawk. Then he looked at her seriously. “You are a brave warrior. I would be proud to fight at your side anytime.”

Ve’otse’e smiled, despite the pain that pulsed through her abused body. “And the others...are they all right as well?”

Brave Wolf nodded. “They are. Two Quivers has gone back to alert the village of our fight. And Many Horses is going to continue on with us.”

Ve’otse’e frowned. “But...Many Horses does not _want_ to do this.”

Brave Wolf shrugged. “He has changed his mind, I suppose.”

**~oOo~**

The next day they rested and talked about what path to take the following day, and hunted small game. Mostly, Ve’otse’e lay by the fire, trying to regain her strength, but she did get up once to wash in the stream and splash the cool water on her face. It made her feel better just to be clean.

When the sun came up on the morning they had planned to leave, Many Horses said they should wait another day, wanting to give Ve’otse’e more time to rest, but she insisted that she could make it.

“Then you can ride one of the travois,” he said.

She shook her head. “No! I will ride Whirlwind.”

Many Horses frowned, but nodded. He respected her strength and would not take it away from her. They rode all day long, stopping only twice to rest and water the horses, and Ve’otse’e never once complained or fell behind. It was only near evening when she finally could not sit astride any longer and toppled off her horse.

Flying Hawk slid off his pony to go to her and Many Horses called a halt. Many Horses let Flying Hawk tend to Ve’otse’e, while he went to her children and helped them get out their belongings. Little Porcupine, worried about his mother, started picking up wood for their fire, and the two remaining young men quickly removed the packhorses’ burdens and hobbled the horses.

“You should try to eat something, Ve’otse’e,” Many Horses said, offering her a piece of pemmican. He had just finished re-wrapping the wounds in her side and was gently straightening her dress and trying to cover her exposed skin. He’d had to use his knife to slit her dress from ankle to ribcage, so that he could see and take care of her wounded side. It had shocked him to see just how very pale she was underneath her doeskin dress though she was darkly tanned where her skin was often exposed to the sun. “It will give you the strength you need to go on.”

Ve’otse’e nodded absently as she lifted the food to her mouth. She had been embarrassed about having to hike her dress up so that Many Horses could dress her wounds, but then he said he would make a cut in it, so that she didn’t have to pull it up so high. Now she lay still, curled up on her uninjured side, nibbling and thinking. Being half dressed no longer concerned her; she was only nervous about arriving in town the next day. Though she desperately wanted to see her mother, sister, and brothers, she was quite worried about her father’s reaction and she wondered about the wisdom of her return. Silently she closed her eyes to sleep. Morning will come soon enough, she thought and tried to relax.

 

[1].  Kėhaenehe – Squint Eye

[2]. Ve’otse’e – Warpath Woman


	7. Chapter 7

** CHAPTER SEVEN **

_June, Somewhere on the Colorado plains_

“Today you will ride on my pony with me,” Many Horses said firmly. He did not want to take the chance that she’d fall off her horse again and possibly further injure herself. They had been lucky the day before, but he would not take any more chances when they were so close to the white man’s village. He expected an argument out of her, but she only nodded and slowly got up to start packing. He was amazed at her strength.

 

Being injured, it was a slow process, but everyone helped. When Little Porcupine and Little Snowbird were settled on the boy’s horse, Ve’otse’e went over to Many Horses and let him help her up. He did so quickly and waited while she straightened her loosely-belted dress. He noticed that she had made a long cut up the right side of her dress, exposing both of her legs to her upper thighs. It made her dress almost look like a long breechclout, though it was not. It looked strange, seeing a woman dressed that way, but it would give her legs a wider range of movement as they traveled, and would make changing her bandages more convenient.

Many Horses had no more than jumped up behind her and started out when he realized she had fallen asleep, her head tilting back, resting on his bare chest. Just the work of breaking camp had exhausted her, but she hadn’t complained. It made him smile.

**~oOo~**

Michael had just come out of his office, intent on heading over to send a telegraph when he saw the strangest thing off in the distance—an Indian sitting upon a horse, carrying a large bundle and heading toward Little Creek. For many minutes he just stood in the middle of the town’s dusty main thoroughfare, staring at the Indian riding toward him and wondering why the red man would come into town. It had been years since a full-blooded Indian had set foot in Little Creek; for the most part they avoided their quiet little town, and for that Michael was thankful. There was no love for the Indian among his people, though there was not a day that went by that Michael did not think of them—and his sister who had run off with one seven years before. He had not heard one thing about her or from her since and wondered how she fared. Had she married the man she ran off with? Did he treat her well? Did Indians even _have_ something called marriage? Was she happy living among people so different? He could only hope.

Sheriff Cooke continued to stand there silently, curious about the approaching sight. He glanced once over his shoulder to take stock of the town’s goings on. There were a few people out, but not many, and he could hear the clip-clopping of horse hooves in the distance, but that was about all. Nothing was happening. So far, it had been a quiet day, but that was not unusual. Little Creek was a small town, with a medium-sized dirt road, which was flanked by many structures, both large and small, running down its center, and only a few side streets. It had all the necessities, and only a few luxuries, but not much more. It was relatively peaceful, mostly because Sheriff Cooke and his deputies ran a mighty tight ship. The night before had been calm as well. There had been no arrests, therefore he had no extra work to do on this morn. It was business as usual; or so he had thought.

He took another look down the street.

No one seemed to have noticed the Indian’s approach yet, or the fact that their town sheriff was just standing there, doing nothing other than looking around. And doing it nervously.

But then, he thought, the people weren’t very likely to be paying much attention to this end of town, or to him, since, if _he_ was involved, it was because there was trouble, and the people of Little Creek didn’t much care for trouble.

Michael’s eyes went back to the Indian, then to his office where his deputies sat sorting through paperwork. His office, which lay at the edge of town, second only to the stage office, was a large two-story building that included his home, as well as his deputies’ homes, and three jail cells. It had been his place of residence for the last eight years and he had been happy there.

Looking back to the Indian, he frowned as he watched the man ride closer. He wondered if he should get his deputies, but decided against it, for the moment. Then suddenly, he realized that _the bundle_ the Indian supported in front of him was an unconscious, _blonde_ -haired woman—a woman who looked very much like Hannah.

“ _Hannah_?” he whispered with uncertainty. _It couldn’t be, could it_? he thought, not trusting what seemed to be an apparition coming out of the dusty plain. He’d always told himself that she was gone, that he’d never see his sister again. It had been easier that way, because believing that she would never return left no room to sit and wait, and hope.

But now he stood there with hope shining in his eyes. Was this blonde woman the very girl who’d run off with her Indian lover? Was this the sister he had missed all these years? He almost trembled with anticipation. _Could it be_? he wondered hopefully. Then, with tremendous knots in his stomach, he turned away and quickly returned to his office to talk to one of his deputies.

“Jake! Someone needs to go get that breed,” Michael said as he kicked the door open and rushed inside the office.

Jake looked up and wrinkled his brow. “Why the hell do you want _him_?” He didn’t like _Injuns_ any more than anyone else, and he felt even worse about the half-breeds, thinking them mixed up perversions instead of individuals torn between two peoples.

“Just do it, Jake!” Michael snapped in frustration. “We’re going to need him.” Michael removed his hat and ran a nervous hand through his blond hair as he paced back and forth a few times, then sighed and shoved it back on his head.

 

Jake watched his friend with a frown; knowing that Michael wasn’t easily stirred was cause for alarm. “Okay Mike, calm down,” he finally said, getting up and going to the door. He lifted his hat from its hook, then, with another glance at the other man, he walked out. It only took him a second to realize why his friend wanted him to get the breed.

“O-oh!” he stammered. “I’ll be right back.” Then seeing Michael was right behind him, he went on. “I think I saw him outside Harry’s Saloon.”

 

Michael nodded absently, then turned back to the stern-looking Indian who now sat motionless on his horse right in front of him. He no longer had any doubt that the woman in front of him was his sister Hannah. And she was a frightful mess.

**~oOo~**

Many Horses headed into the small town and stopped in front of a man that wore a shiny metal thing pinned on his shirt. He assessed the tall, yellow-haired man quickly and decided this was the white man’s lawman. He was wearing black pants and a tan-colored shirt, and a black hat in the typical style of the white man. Many Horses looked down into the clear blue eyes of the man looking up at him, and was shocked to realize it was a familiar blue. They were the same blue eyes of the woman he held and somehow he knew that this white man was the brother of Ve’otse’e. How propitious, he thought, with just a little bit of awe.

For a moment they only stared at one another, as if waiting for the other to make the first move. Many Horses decided that it should be him and raised his right hand to make the gesture for hello, but the yellow-haired man only frowned and looked behind him. Many Horses saw many people congregating in the streets behind the brother of Ve’otse’e, but no one seemed brave enough to get too close to them. That, at least, made him glad; this was already a situation with which he was uncomfortable.

Finally, two men approached. Many Horses was surprised to see that one of them was not a white man, though he was dressed more like one. Many Horses then made the gesture for hello again and waited. The sign was returned, but then the man looked at Ve’otse’e’s brother.

 

“That is my sister,” Michael informed him. “Ask this man if he is her husband.”

“I do not have to ask. He is not,” the breed said, standing stiffly, feet set widely apart.

Michael frowned. “How do you know that?”

“Look at the gashes on her arms and her cut hair,” he said. “She is in mourning; her husband is most likely dead.”

Michael looked back at his sister and grimaced at the recently healed wounds on her arms. He saw no connection between them and the death of a husband. _What kind of strange custom is_ that _?_ he wondered. Or is there something wrong with Hannah’s head? Maybe she was no longer herself. Had she lost her mind? He had heard of women who did after spending time with Indians. He desperately wanted to ask more questions about his sister’s condition, but now was not the time. Right now it was time to find out why they were here. He figured that he’d just have to rely on the half-breed.

With a deep frown, Michael again looked up at the Indian who held his sister almost reverently. It was obvious that the red man cared for her, but there was a sadness about him that Michael could not place. A sudden feeling of compassion for his sister and the Indian gnawed at his stomach; it was unexpected, but reassuring. He turned then, to address the half-breed.

“Can you...?” he began. Then noticing for the first time that the breed’s eyes were gray and not black, he stopped and took stock of the entire situation; the Indian, Hannah’s return, her condition, the gawking townspeople, the almost glowering look of the half-breed standing in front of him. For the moment everything seemed to stand still and he thought about the mixed man standing before him. Of all the years he had lived in town, he had never heard this man called by anything other than _the breed_ or _that half-breed_. The man was almost treated as if he were inhuman. And that was something that Michael could not take. Even with all that was going on, it was too disturbing. Shaking his head, he started over.

“Wait. What is _your_ name?” he asked, wanting desperately to understand what was happening and hoping he’d get answers from the half-breed.

“Black Hawk.”

Michael nodded, thinking the name fit the black-haired man with the hawk-like nose. “Black Hawk, will you ask this man what happened?” Black Hawk nodded and turned toward the Indian.

“Etonesootse?”[1]

“Ho’nehetaneo’o.”[2]

Black Hawk then turned back to Michael. “It seems they were attacked by Pawnee.”

Michael’s eyes widened and he looked at Jake. “Go hitch up my wagon so I can take her home.”

Jake nodded and hurried off and Michael glanced back nervously at his sister, wondering what he should do. He had no idea what was wrong with her; what injuries she had sustained, _why_ she was unconscious, or if she’d wake up any time soon. Were her injuries serious? Would she even survive the wagon trip home? _Maybe I should take her over to the clinic to have the doctor look her over,_ he thought. But then he frowned and quickly dismissed the thought; the doctor had ridden out a few hours earlier on a house call. He supposed that taking her home was his best bet, but what if she didn’t wake up? If that happened they’d have no way of finding out more about what had taken place. He glanced then at Black Hawk.

“Would you mind coming with us to translate what this man is saying?” Michael paused. “I can pay you, of course.”

Black Hawk frowned. He didn’t want, _or need_ , this man’s money, but he nodded anyway, though he’d meant to decline. He didn’t look forward to taking even one step on Circle C property; everyone knew how much Jon Cooke hated Indians, but the sheriff had always been decent enough to him—hadn’t harassed him anyway—so he figured going out there couldn’t hurt him.

“Can you ask him his name?” Michael nodded toward the Indian, but kept looking at Black Hawk.

Black Hawk nodded again and looked up at the other Indian. “Netonesevehe?”[3]

Many Horses frowned. A man did not usually speak his own name, but speaking a different language was barrier enough. He did not want to add to it by refusing to speak his name. “Haestohe’hame.”

“He is called Many Horses,” Black Hawk said to Michael and then gave Many Horses Michael’s name.

“My-call,” Many Horses said haltingly. Michael nodded and repeated the Indian’s name. It was a start.

**~oOo~**

An uncomfortable silence descended over them as they waited for Jake to return with Michael’s wagon. The townspeople had drifted back to what they were doing, though many made a point of sitting outside shops instead of going back inside them as they were before the Indian rode into town. Michael shook his head at their rudeness, but it was to be expected. People are so nosey, Michael thought as he glanced up at the stiff, expressionless man holding Hannah. He tried to smile, but it was tight and it was not returned.

When Jake finally came riding around the corner with the wagon, Michael was relieved. But when he reached up to take his sister from Many Horses, the Indian pulled back and frowned at him. Michael glanced back at Black Hawk and waited while the two men spoke.

“Many Horses says that there are others, waiting in the hills.”

“Others?” Michael asked with a frown. “Who are these others?”

Black Hawk again questioned Many Horses, then looked back at Michael with a frown, wondering how his next words would go over. “Your sister’s children wait there with Many Horses’ brother and two other warriors.”

“My sister’s _children_!” he exclaimed. “Good Lord!”

“Many Horses wants to know if he should go get them?” Black Hawk asked.

Michael frowned, then nodded and reached to take his sister again. Many Horses seemed reluctant to let her go, but finally lifted the woman’s limp leg over his horse’s neck and let her slide into her brother’s arms. Hannah groaned, her eyes fluttering open.

“Michael!” she whispered her surprise. “You can put me down; I can walk.” He did as she said, steadying her when she faltered, and smiled down at her.

“Long time, no see, little sister,” he said with relief. But unable to let her go, he pulled her back into his arms and crushed her to him tightly—much too tightly. She groaned and flinched away from him.

“Are you okay? You look terrible,” he said, caressing her black and blue face. “What _happened_ to you?” He had tears in his eyes as he stared down at her with brotherly concern.

“I am fine... _now_ ,” she said with a nod, then she pushed her leather dress aside enough for him to see the bandages that covered her side and the bruises that extended beyond them. “I took an arrow here...”

Michael stared in astonishment. The fact that she wore nothing underneath her dress caused him to blush and glance away. He was embarrassed that she would reveal so much to him, and right in the middle of the street. Glancing around nervously, he realized that no one could really see them...except for his two deputies and the half-breed, maybe. Finally, he forced himself to look at her face and try to focus on what she was saying.

“...and I was punched here,” she was saying as she pointed to her face. “It was a nasty fight. I am just lucky I still have my hair,” she said as she held back the dirty strands on her forehead to reveal a thin, blood-crusted slice at her hairline where the Pawnee warrior had attempted to remove her scalp. “Those damned Pawnee are vicious savages, but thanks to your shooting lessons,” she said, patting his chest, “we won. And now there are six less of those bastards and _we_ were uninjured. Well...mostly,” said with a grim smile.

Michael stared at her for a moment. He had never heard her curse that way before. Though James had told him the things she had screamed from behind her locked bedroom door seven years earlier, somehow he hadn’t really believed it. Not _his_ little sister! he’d always thought. He knew Hannah had always been a little rough and tumble; she was a hard worker, an excellent cowhand who didn’t mind getting dirty, a sure-shot with her rifle, _and_ she was a quick thinker. She had always been a strong girl, in strength and character, and she’d always managed to handle herself, and anyone else who came along. He suspected that those things hadn’t changed and he smiled happily as he looked down into her face.

Michael had listened as she babbled on. Though much about her seemed to have stayed the same, there _was_ something different about her now. Where she used to combine all those strong points with sweetness and innocence, she no longer could. She had seen things that most people hadn’t and her innocence was lost; he could see it in her eyes. And though she talked as if she’d never left, Michael couldn’t help but feel the loss profoundly.

“You killed _six_ Indians?”

She shook her head. “Pawnee,” she corrected. “And no, not all by myself. I got three of them. Brave Wolf got one, Flying Hawk got another, and the last one was killed by Squint Eye.”

”Squint _who_?” Michael shook his head in disbelief. He could not imagine his sister taking a life, but apparently she had been forced to. Life with the Indians must be brutal. Why would anyone, especially a sweet woman like his sister, choose to live that way? He could not fathom what she had lived through, but realized that he did not know her as well as he thought he did.

“I am told you have children.”

Hannah brightened at this and nodded, but held up her hand and turned to look up at Many Horses. For the next few minutes she only spoke to Many Horses.

Michael watched and listened, wondering what they were saying and wishing he understood them. His sister was obviously fluent in the man’s language. There was no longer a need to keep Black Hawk there, if the man wished to go. He turned to Black Hawk, who still stood there, watching with interest, a slightly amused look on his face.

“I suppose I no longer need your services, Black Hawk. But thank you anyway.”

Black Hawk nodded. “I guess it’d be better that I don’t come along...considering your father’s feelings.”

Michael frowned. “You know, we don’t all feel the way he does. People just don’t understand, that’s all.”

“People don’t _want_ to understand, Sheriff,” Black Hawk said. There was anger in the young man’s voice, and even a touch of hurt, but he held his temper well. “I guess I’ll go then, if you don’t need me anymore.”

Michael shook his head. He felt like he’d somehow insulted the man, though he hadn’t meant to. “Hey,” he called out. “I’ll see you around.”

Black Hawk raised a hand to wave over his shoulder, but he never looked back.

Hannah turned in time to see the half-breed leave, but her mind was not on the stranger.

“My children, Little Porcupine and Little Snowbird, are waiting up there with our warriors and all of my belongings,” she said, pointing in a north-northwesterly direction. “Would it be safe for them to come down?”

Michael frowned. The townspeople were not going to like having a bunch of Indian warriors traipsing through town, but aside from asking them to make a wide circle around town, what choice did he have? Besides, he was the sheriff, so he could allow it. “It should be fine. Just give me some time to inform the people.” Hannah nodded.

“Hey Jake!” he called out to the deputy that had gone back into their office. When the man poked his head outside, Michael continued. “Better get Billy and keep people off the streets. I’m letting this man’s people come through town and then we’re going out to the Circle C. I’ll probably be gone most of the day.”

Jake looked surprised. “What about your...ahhh...your lunch companion? Aren’t you supposed to be meeting her for lunch?”

“Damn! I forgot about that. I guess I’ll have to go talk to her before I go.” He turned to Hannah. “Do you mind?” She shook her head and watched him jog down the main street, then disappear around a corner.

 

Many Horses watched the ease with which Ve’otse’e spoke to her brother, and finally began to understand her confusion over the People’s restriction against brothers and sisters having contact; her people had no such restrictions.

“Where does your brother go?” he asked her.

“There is someone he needs to talk to,” she replied. “But he says we can go through town, but that he wants some time to move people off the streets, so that there will not be any problems.”

Many Horses frowned. “We did not travel all this way to a white man’s village to make war. Does he think we wish to make trouble for Ve’otse’e?”

Hannah shook her head vehemently. “No, Michael does not think that. He only wishes for _us_ to be safe. You know that when the whites are afraid, they hurt the People. They are irrational and sometimes quite stupid. Michael only wants to make sure _they_ cause no trouble.”

“Humph!” Many Horses crossed his arms over his chest. She was right about how stupid the white man could be and wondered how she could have been born to white parents. Finally he nodded. “I will go then, to get the others.”

“Should I come with you?”

“No, I think that you should stay here. How long does your brother need?”

Hannah looked up at the sun. It would be midday within the hour. “I think when the sun is directly overhead, the time would be right.”

Many Horses nodded. “Tell My-call we will return then,” he said and turned his horse to leave.

**~oOo~**

When Michael returned, he escorted Hannah into his office, then through a door in the back, down a long, narrow hallway, then through another door and into his house, so that she could clean up a little.

“I picked up a dress from the dress shop,” he said, holding out a package to her. “I hope I got the right size.”

She frowned, then took it and opened up the brown paper. The dress was made of blue gingham and it was beautiful. She looked at the undergarments he had chosen, and held them up with a grin.

He blushed, remembering that she desperately needed the garments. “I-I didn’t know what you’d n-need,” he stammered.

She glanced at the clothing again, then set them down on the table and looked up at Michael. “They are beautiful, Michael. It has been a long time since I’ve touched such fine cloth. I will make use of them at some point,” she said hesitantly.

Realizing that she didn’t plan to wear the clothes just yet, he frowned. “You don’t have to wear them, if you don’t want to. I just thought you might like to change into something clean and...less Indian,” he tried to explain.

Smiling, she went to him and hugged him. “I would love to put on something clean...something in one piece at least.” She gestured at the tears in her leather dress. “But...despite Pa’s hatred, I feel no need to look _less Indian_ , Michael. I was very happy living with Windwalker and the People. I would still be there now, if he had not been killed. And besides, my wearing this dress will not hide the fact that I have two half-breed children, or that I’ve been beaten to hell.”

“So why have you returned, Hannah?” he asked. “And don’t get me wrong, I’m elated to see you. I’ve missed you and I’ve worried about you all these years, but this is not going to be easy for you and your children. Why do you want to put them, and yourself, through this?”

Hannah sighed deeply. “May I?”

He nodded and watched as she lowered herself down into his favorite armchair.

She winced. The action caused her side to ache, but as she sank into the soft cushion she smiled up at him. “Because I had to see you...and Ma and James and Magen, and Hunter. I have missed you all terribly and I wanted my children to know their mother’s family.”

Michael smiled and knelt down in front of her. “There are two others you don’t know about. About a year after you left, Ma discovered she was pregnant again. She had twins; Robbie and Katie are five now.”

“That is wonderful, Michael,” Hannah said with a sad smile. “I am glad Ma has had something to take her mind off...things. Does she hate me too much?”

He shook his head. “Hannah, you know very well that it was only Pa that you were fighting.”

“And James.”

“But James came around...you would not have been able to leave if he didn’t let you out.”

“Yes, I know that.” She looked away.

“Here, come with me,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her along. “Let me just wash your hands and face. That’ll make you feel better. And don’t worry about the dress...you don’t have to wear it. But keep it...for later. You might find an occasion.”

Hannah nodded and let him wipe the travel dust from her. There was nothing he could do about the bluish-black bruise that covered her left cheek, but at least it would be a clean bluish-black bruise, he mused as he ever so gently ran the wet cloth over her face.

“There. How does that feel?” he finally asked.

She smiled. “Just fine. Can I borrow your brush?”    

“Of course,” he said, handing it to her and watching as she ran it through her short blonde hair. She quickly parted it and made two neat braids on either side of her ears. Hannah had always had shiny long hair, but now it was short and dingy, and she looked exhausted.

“What do you think?”

He frowned. “I think life must have been very difficult for you...living with people that are so different.

Hannah shook her head. “It was no more difficult than living with the ve’ho’e.”

“Vey–hoe?” he repeated.

She shook her head. “Sorry. White man.”

He frowned at her obvious feelings. He could tell that she no longer considered _herself_ white. He had to admit that except for her blonde hair and blue eyes she hardly even looked white anymore; she wore animal skins instead of dresses made of cloth and moccasins on her feet, and her skin was nearly as dark as that of Many Horses. He decided to change the subject.

“And what about your children?” he asked. “How old are they?” That brought a smile to his sister’s face. One that even reached her eyes.

“Little Porcupine is six and Little Snowbird is four and they have been anxiously waiting to meet you and the others. I am very excited to tell them that there are two more to meet.” She paused. “I can’t believe you aren’t married yet,” she said with an amused smile. “You are the oldest, but you have waited so long.”

“Yes,” he said with a laugh. “I am waiting for...the perfect woman, I guess.”

“I hope that you are a patient man, my brother,” she laughed with a shake of her head. “Because I am not sure that woman exists.”

Michael shrugged, but grinned at her. “Lord knows _that’s_ the truth.”

Hannah smiled.

“My work does keep me rather busy. I don’t know how I’d have time for a woman.”

Hannah’s smile widened. “And what about James? Is he married?”

“Nope. He has no time for women either; he’s still letting Pa order him about.”

“That’s too bad. And Magen?”

“I think she likes them all, but she does things all proper-like,” he said with a bit of disdain. “Not that there’s anything wrong with proper, mind you.”

Hannah giggled. “She must be quite unlike her big sister then,” Hannah said and rolled her eyes.

“Well, she was really young when you took off and the whole incident terrified her. Pa made threats about sending her away to some school back east if she caused any trouble. I think he still makes them.”

Hannah shook her head. “That man’s a brute!”

“He could be worse, Han. There are plenty of men who don’t take care of their families at all, and men who beat their wives and children. At least he cares enough to fight hard, even if it’s misplaced sometimes.”

“I know.” She took a deep breath and looked around absently. She wasn’t used to this brother defending their pa. “But he makes me so _angry_. Why can’t he let us live our own lives? First he forbids you to be sheriff, then he chases you off the ranch. Then he refuses to let me be with the man I loved and locks me away. And then he forces James to stay and threatens to send Magen away. What about Hunter? What about Robbie and Katie?”

“They’re still young yet, Hannah. And Pa’s getting older. He doesn’t have the control he used to and it’s killing him. Not literally, of course, the man’s as healthy as a horse, but can you imagine how hard it must be for the man?”

Hannah shook her head. “The man _invites_ hard. If he’d just let us be.... Oh Michael,” she whined, “what will I do if Pa sends me _away_?”

“You will come _here_ , of course,” he said with a grin. “You might be a pain in the side, but I’ll take ya.”

“Thank you. You are so wonderful. You are going to make some lucky lady very happy one day,” she said, her smile matching his. Then she looked over at the clock on his wall. “We should probably get back outside. I don’t want the townspeople to be frightened when my brothers arrive.”

“Your _brothers_?”

“Yes, Many Horses and Flying Hawk are my husband’s brothers. That makes them _my_ brothers, according to the People. And there are two other warriors with them. Plus, I brought nine horses, four with travois, and there are the four horses of the warriors as well, _and_ the six warponies we captured from the dead Pawnee. It should be quite a sight,” she said with a grin. Michael only shook his head. His sister had always been one for a show.

**~oOo~**

Hannah had not been kidding when she described the spectacle. When the nineteen horses carrying four fierce-looking Indians, one on either side, one at the rear and one in the front, came riding into town, a hush fell over the people. Michael smiled to himself—they were stunned into silence—for once, he thought.

Hannah stood quietly beside him until Little Porcupine drew his horse to a stop beside her. “This is my son,” she said proudly.

Michael held out his hand, but the boy only stared at it. Michael waited while Hannah explained what he was supposed to do, then smiled when the child grabbed his hand and shook it firmly.

“And _this_ ,” Hannah said, scooping up the beautiful child from the front of Little Porcupine’s horse, “is my daughter.”

Michael smiled down at her. “Would you like to ride in my wagon?” he asked.

Little Snowbird glanced up at her mother nervously and waited for her to translate, then she looked at the wagon, hesitated for just a moment, then smiled and nodded her head. Michael was charmed and returned his niece’s smile as he held out his arms to take her. Little Snowbird needed no urging to go to him. She could not say no to the man who looked so much like her beautiful mother.

“So, are you ready to go home?” he asked his sister.

“Hmmm, home. I’m not sure I know what that is.” She shook her head. “But I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” she answered nervously.

Michael smiled, then snapped the reins. “Git!” 

[1]. Etonesootse (Étónêsóotse) - What happened?

[2]. Ho’nehetaneo’o (Ho’néhetaneo’o) – Pawnees (literally, wolf people)

[3]. Netonesevehe (Nétónêševéhe) – What is your name?


	8. Chapter 8

** CHAPTER EIGHT **

Much to Hannah’s frustration, what should have been just an hour-long ride back to the ranch took nearly two hours. She would have liked to get there more quickly, to get the initial confrontation with her father over with, and to relax; she was quite exhausted and still in pain. But the packhorses carrying her tepee and belongings moved more slowly than she had expected, often getting hung up in the ruts of the heavily grooved dirt road and on the rocks and brush that littered the path.

Hannah had decided to ride Whirlwind, instead of in the jostling wagon with Michael and Little Snowbird or riding double with Many Horses. The bumping around in the wagon would have made her side ache, more than it already did, and that was something she did not need. And though it would have been easier to ride double, much more comfortable to have her brother-in-law’s body to support her own aching one, she didn’t think it was a good idea to come upon her father sitting with Many Horses. Jon Cooke was going to be angry enough as it was when they arrived; she saw no need to add to his fury.

For most of the ride, Hannah had ridden near the packhorses, so that she could get down to make adjustments as needed. That was, after all, her job as a Cheyenne woman, difficult as it may be with the injury she had sustained. Michael wondered why no one helped her and stopped the wagon several times to go to her aid, questioning her with his eyes, but receiving no answers. She didn’t seem to care one bit that she was being left to do the physical labor alone and only smiled her thanks each time he stopped to help. It was because of this reoccurring delay that it took so long to cover such a short distance. Then finally, after about the sixth or seventh stop, Flying Hawk gestured that he would help so that there would be no need to stop the wagon every time a travois was stuck. Michael was grateful for the young brave’s help and it showed in his smile. From then on, the ride seemed to go faster.

As they neared the ranch, Hannah told Little Porcupine to stay close behind her, then nudged Whirlwind forward to ride beside her brother’s wagon. Many Horses rode on Michael’s left side and the younger men rode further back, staying a good distance behind the six Pawnee warponies that were tied behind the wagon, but flanking the packhorses. Everyone was on edge.

Hannah was glad when they finally came around the final bend and out of the trees and the entrance to the Circle C came into view, but she began to notice an ache of tension in her neck. Sitting ridged, she stared at the ranch house where she had grown up. Everything looked just as she remembered it—a little smaller perhaps, she thought, considering the endless prairie-lands she had roamed during the last seven years. _Everything_ seemed small when compared to that.

**~oOo~**

Mary Cooke had spent the morning milking their cow and collecting eggs, and making bread for the evening. At midday she had washed the clothes on the southern side of the house and hung them all up to dry on the line out back. It was now close to two in the afternoon and she was standing in her kitchen making an afternoon meal for her husband. Jon worked hard every day of his life and today was no different. He was out mending fences, again, which had kept him away at noon, but she figured he’d be home soon, and he’d expect lunch to be ready when he got there. He didn’t like waiting for a meal and Mary figured it was the least she could do for the man that she loved.

“Magen,” she called up the stairs as she dried her hands on her apron.

“What Ma?” came a voice from somewhere at the other end of the upstairs hallway.

“ _Magen_!” she warned impatiently. When her slender eighteen-year-old daughter finally appeared, Mary frowned and placed her hands on her hips. “Please come when I call...don’t make me call you again.” She’d been saying that for years, for all the good it did her.

Magen looked contrite. “Sorry Ma.”

“Your pa should be home for lunch any time now. Please have your brother and sister wash up, then go out to the barn and get Hunter. He should be cleaning the stalls that he neglected this morning.”

“Yes Ma.” Magen smiled as she flounced off to get the little ones. Hunter often sneaked away early in the morning so that he could go fishing. It was something that made their mother crazy, but she always gave him extra chores to do when he got back. Today, after thoroughly cleaning the barn, he was going to have to wash everyone’s lunch dishes. This was a job that usually belonged to her, so Magen had something to smile about.

After waking her sleeping brother and sister up from their nap, Magen took them down the back stairwell and out the back door to wash their hands in the bucket of water their mother kept near the pump. After their hands, Magen picked up a small piece of cloth and wet it to wash their little faces. It never ceased to amaze her how dirty Robbie could get, even after spending hours inside napping. And Katie wasn’t much better.

“There!” she said, swatting at their little rear ends. “Let’s go inside.”

Once inside, Magen sat down at the table and picked up a knife to cut up apples for Robbie and Katie.

“So, what were you doing upstairs that distracted you so?” Mary asked her daughter.

“I was reading that new book Michael gave me. It’s very good.”

Mary smiled. “You never used to be so interested in books,” she remark as she stirred the large pot of soup she had been simmering all morning. “What’s so good about this one?”

“It’s about a young woman at one of those schools in the east, like the ones Pa is always threatening to send me off to.”

Mary stopped stirring and frowned. “Those are not threats, Magen. Your father means what he says. Couldn’t you read something else, so that he doesn’t get any more ideas? I don’t want to lose another daughter.”

“Oh Ma, if he read this book I’m reading, he’d _never_ send me there. I could get into so much _more_ trouble there. I think I should leave it out, so that he’ll stop making these absurd threats,” she said as she handed Robbie and Katie each an apple wedge. ” _Besides_ , do you really think he’d put me in a coach and send me through _hostile Injun country_?” she asked, deepening her voice to sound like her father.

Mary could not help but grin. Magen had a point; Jon would _never_ let this daughter go, if he could stop her. She’s a smart young woman, Mary thought—sometimes much too smart. Mary wondered what was going on in her daughter’s pretty little head, but went back to stirring. “Did you go tell Hunter that it’ll be time to eat soon.”

“Oh...I forgot.”

Mary shook her head. “Honestly, Magen, you’re just as bad as Hunter.”

“I’ll go tell him now,” Magen said, jumping up to leave before her mother could assign her extra chores. Mary continued to shake her head, but she smiled.

**~oOo~**

Magen had taken no more than a few steps outside when she heard a wagon approaching. She smiled, knowing it could only be Michael. But when she looked up the color drained from her face. _Indians?_ She scanned the group, then glanced at the barn; Hunter was walking toward her, a shotgun clutched and aimed at those approaching, his young dog Jax following guardedly, obviously slightly on edge. Without thinking about it, Magen glanced around, observing that their other three hounds lay lazily in the shade of a tree, heads raised and tongues lolling. Oddly enough, they didn’t seem overly concerned—but Hunter did.

“Get inside, Magen!” he yelled at her.

Magen looked from Hunter to Michael and frowned. Michael didn’t seem distressed, but Hunter certainly was. _Does he think Michael is being held captive?_ she wondered. Then she noticed the woman and knew, even from a distance, that it was Hannah.

“Mother! Come out here!” she screeched. “Come quick! It’s Hannah!” She didn’t wait for an answer from her mother, she just ran forward, ignoring her younger brother’s scream of frustration.

“Magen, no!” Hunter had tried to grab her by the arm, but he couldn’t stop her and still hold onto his gun.

“Hannah!” she screamed, running quickly down the dirt road with eyes full of tears.

Hannah’s eyes filled and overflowed. Sliding from Whirlwind’s back, her pain gone for the moment, Hannah ran to meet Magen.

“Oh Hannah!” Magen breathed, throwing her arms around her sister’s neck. “I didn’t think that I’d ever see you again.”

“Neither did I,” Hannah said as she held her sister. They stood with their arms around one another for a few seconds, then Hannah stepped back and held her sister at arm’s length. “You’ve grown up. I hardly recognize you,” Hannah said with a smile. Magen was nearly the same height as she and probably the prettiest thing Hannah had ever seen. “And you too, Gopher,” she said to the animal that had insinuated itself into her dangling hand. Though he had only been a pup when she left, he clearly remembered her, or at least had some vestige of a memory of her. Kneeling, she roughed the dog’s head, then she smiled when Lady came up to receive her scratches as well. Both dogs had been hers once upon a time. Smiling, she stood up, wiped at her tears and hugged her sister again.

Magen laughed as happy tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m so glad you’re back, Hannah,” she said as she looked around. She was about to laugh again when her eyes focused on the menacing-looking man at Michael’s side. And then she noticed the other three. She hadn’t seen Indians before, or at least not in several years, and they were rather frightening.

“W-who is...,” she began, then looked around and swallowed hard, “...are...t-they?” She stared, wide-eyed at the four Indian men. She hadn’t noticed the children yet, but only because she was overwhelmed.

Hannah smiled. “This is Many Horses, and—”

“Is he your...your husband?” Magen interrupted, her natural curiosity taking over. She had not been allowed to ask her mother questions about _the damned savage that stole her sister_ , though she vaguely remembered the argument James had had with their father the day Hannah had run off.

“No, he is not. He is netame,[1] my husband’s brother. My husband is dead.”

“Good!” came an angry voice from the barn behind them. “The only good one’s a dead one!” Hannah’s father exclaimed as he cocked his gun and slowly moved forward.

Jon Cooke was supporting his rifle and he was aiming it at Many Horses’ chest as he approached them. Hannah knew he was more than capable of making the shot from where he stood, so she moved to stand in between them. Many Horses only stared at the white man holding the gun.

“No!” Hannah yelled, holding her arms up to stop her father. “This man has done no harm. He is only here to bring me home. To make sure I got here safely.”

“She speaks the truth, Pa,” Michael said. “They caused no trouble in town. They are just bringing her home to us.”

Jon looked at his oldest son and scowled. “You should know better than to bring these savages onto my property, _Sheriff_ ,” Jon Cooke spat at his eldest son. He was still angry that a son of his would abandon the family ranch to work in town. “I’ve said it over and over again...I will shoot these animals on sight for stealing my daughter.”

“Pa, no one stole me,” Hannah said, going to her father. “I went with Windwalker willingly; I loved him. Why can’t you accept that?”

Jon blinked and stared at his daughter hard. “What the hell happened to you? Did your damned husband beat you?” he demanded.

“No, Pa! My husband is DEAD...I already said that, remember?”

He scowled. “Then which one of these savages beat you? I’ll kill him!” he said, shifting his eyes from man to man. “Who was it?”

“None of these men beat me, Pa!” she said angrily. “The Indians don’t beat their women...no more than the white man does anyway. We were attacked by Pawnee warriors on the way here.”

“Pawnee?”

“Yes, Pawnee.” Hannah nodded. “ _These men_ are my friends. The Cheyenne are good people, Pa,” she tried to explain.

Her father scowled. “What the hell’s the difference? Sioux, Pawnee, Cheyenne, Arapaho, Kiowa, Comanche. They’re all the damned same. They’re all _savages_!” He was working himself up into a rage. “Damned savages! All of ‘em!”

“Jon?” It was Mary’s uncertain voice that broke through his anger. She had crept forward during the commotion and now she was staring at the two _blue_ -eyed Indian children, one, on a horse of his own, the other, sitting beside Michael in the wagon. She quickly deduced that they were her daughter’s children.

“Go inside, Mary,” he commanded her. “Let me handle this.”

Mary frowned. “I will not!” she exclaimed defiantly. She took a few more tentative steps forward, then quickly hugged her daughter. Hannah looked terrible and she seemed reluctant to the embrace, but considering how Jon was treating her, Mary didn’t blame her oldest daughter a bit.

“I see there are several to introduce,” Mary said tearfully. She took a step back, but took hold of Hannah’s hand as she did so. Though she had ended the hug, she was unwilling to let her daughter go, at least for the moment.

Hannah smiled at her mother. “Yes, Ma,” she said. “This is Many Horses, my husband’s older brother.” Mary nodded a greeting. “And that is Flying Hawk, his younger brother.” Mary nodded again. “And they are Brave Wolf and Squint Eye, friends of my husband and Flying Hawk.” Mary smiled at the warriors nervously, then listened while her daughter spoke to the men. She pointed at each of her family members and said their names slowly before turning back to her mother.

“And who...who are the children?” Mary asked hopefully.

“They are mine,” Hannah stated plainly.

“ _WHAT?!_ ” Jon Cooke hollered, rushing forward angrily. He had remained silent during the introductions, but now all he could think of was to rip out an Indian’s throat; any Indian would do. Many Horses was the closest, but he never had to defend himself. Her pain temporarily forgotten, Hannah ran to block the path of her angry father just as Michael jumped down from the wagon to intercept him. It was at that moment that James came out of the barn and ran over to help, his own dogs following, hackles raised and growling menacingly, but at whom, no one could be sure.

Jon struggled against his sons, but he could not break through. Instead, he chose to shout at his daughter. “How could you birth these breeds?” he yelled, gesticulating angrily. “How could you bring them back here? I will not have those little bastards in my house. I will NOT!” He was still struggling. His face was red and puffed with his rage.

Hannah blinked hard, but she could not stop the tears that fell. “Then I will go back with them,” she whispered. “I guess I should not have come.”

“Damned straight!” Jon agreed hotly.

Mary watched as her oldest daughter turned to leave and she began to howl. “ _Nooooo_ , Hannah...you can’t go,” she screamed. “Hannah, _please_ , please don’t leave,” she pleaded. But her daughter looked resolute. What choice did she have?

“Ma, the decision has been made for me.” Hannah moved wearily back to her horse.

Mary watched Hannah start away, then she turned on her husband. “Jon!” Mary finally said through gritted teeth. “You can’t let her go! If you chase her away again, then...then...then _I’m going with her_!” she finished lamely.

Complete silence. Even the dogs made no sound.

Hannah frowned and watched as her father’s face turned red again. She held her breath, as did everyone else. Even the dogs tilted their heads curiously.

“Fine then! Stay!” her father finally relented. “But know that I don’t like it...not one damned bit. And they’re not to go in _my_ house! I will not have _Injuns_ in there!” With that he yanked away from Michael and James and stormed away. All anyone could do was watch as he jumped onto his horse and rode back out onto the range. 

[1]. netame (nétame) – my brother-in-law


	9. Chapter 9

** CHAPTER NINE **

Many Horses and the other Indian men stared after the father of Ve’otse’e. They hadn’t been able to understand the _words_ the man had been yelling, but they did have a pretty good idea what he was angry about. This was going just about how they had expected it to go and they didn’t like it. And they were quite worried, for Ve’otse’e and the children, if not for themselves. How could they leave her here with her people when her own father had raged at her so fiercely?

 

Mary watched her husband ride off and frowned at his rapidly retreating back. She could tell by the set of his shoulders that there was going to be hell to pay and she wondered when, exactly, she would have to deal with it. She knew the cowhands that waited for him on the range would have to deal with it first and she felt as bad for them as she did for her bruised and batter daughter. She didn’t know if she would have had the courage to leave with Hannah if Jon had run her off again. It would have been a hard choice to make, she was sure of that. And God knows her husband would have fought like hell to stop her, knowing that she would have insisted on taking their young children with her. She was thankful she wouldn’t have that fight to deal with. There’d be others though, she was sure of that, but at least not that one. Slowly, she turned around to face her daughter.

“Why don’t you ask your...ahh... _friends_...to get down and come in. I will make everyone something to eat,” she suggested.

Hannah shook her head. “We will not go inside. Pa has made it clear that we are not welcome.”

Mary frowned. “Oh come now, Hannah, surely you don’t intend to stay outside...to _sleep_ outside.”

“Ma, I have not slept in a house for the past seven years and my children never have. It won’t be a hardship on us to stay outside. And besides, these warriors,” she gestured at the men, “would not be comfortable with walls surrounding them. We will stay outside. I will set up my lodge out back.”

“Your lodge?” her mother asked, raising her eyebrows. She had no idea what her daughter was talking about.

Hannah smiled. “My tepee, Mother. I have brought everything I own with me, including my home.” She then turned and spoke to Many Horses.

“I will set up my lodge. We can all share it if you would like.” He nodded, but didn’t reply. “My mother has offered food. Would you like to eat?”

Many Horses frowned. It would be rude to refuse and he _was_ hungry. Something other than pemmican would be quite nice. He glanced at his brother, then nodded and slid off of his horse, landing lightly beside it. The other men followed his lead and watched as Ve’otse’e went to the young man that had returned with her father, the one called Jaym-z. His blond hair and blue eyes left no doubt that he was another one of her brothers.

“Hey kid. How ya been?” James asked, taking her into his arms and hugging her until she groaned. He released her and looked her up and down. “Ya look like shit, Sis.”

“James! Is that any way to speak to your sister?” Mary scolded.

“Well, she does,” he said with a teasing smile.

Hannah laughed. “Thanks a lot,” she said, throwing a mock punch at him and ducking his. “But really...I have been very happy. Until recently things have been pretty good. Aside from losing my husband...and getting shot, that is.” She patted her left side gently and sighed.

“ _Shot_?” her mother exclaimed with a frown. “Goodness, Hannah, what have you gone through?”

“It’s nothing to worry about, Ma.” Hannah hugged her mother again. “As you can see, I am fine,” she said, disengaging herself from her mother’s worried embrace and going to her daughter to lift the child out of the wagon. She then signaled her son to follow. “Now, I think it’s time for you to meet your grandchildren.” Mary was beside herself.

Hannah set her daughter on the ground and knelt down. “This is your grandmother,” she said to them in Cheyenne. Little Snowbird smiled shyly, but Little Porcupine only looked up at the older white woman suspiciously. Hannah bit her lip then looked up at her mother and tried to smile.

“This is my son, Heškovetseso. It means Little Porcupine. And my daughter, Šeheso. Her name means Little Snowbird.”

Mary knelt down as well and took them into her arms. She could not help herself. She had been secretly praying that one of her children would marry and produce some grandchildren for her, but none of them seemed even close to marriage. This was the most wonderful surprise she could think of. She was so excited and therefore did not seem to notice that Little Porcupine resisted slightly, standing stiffly in her embrace. Mary then sat back to look at them. Aside from their dark coloring, they looked very much like Hannah. Little Snowbird’s hair was light brown and her face was shaped just like her mother’s, while Little Porcupine had hair that was a few shades darker and he closely resembled the fierce-looking Indian, Many Horses. And both children had their mother’s blue eyes, though a much darker shade of blue than Hannah’s crystal clear, and a shape about them that was unmistakably a Cooke trait; all of her children had the same almond-shaped eyes.

“Hesh-ko...,” she tried, but frowned when she couldn’t remember the rest of the boy’s name.

“-vet-say-so,” Hannah finished for her, enunciating her son’s name clearly.

Mary smiled. “Hesh-ko-vetsay-so,” she said slowly, repeating it over several more times. Then she looked at her granddaughter and frowned. “And?” she prompted.

“Šeheso,” Little Snowbird said with a smile, as if she had understood the words of her mother’s mother.

“Shayhey-so,” Mary repeated.

Little Snowbird nodded, then reached tiny arms out to hug the woman. “Ke’eehe.”[1]

“Kay-ay-ay-hey?” Mary repeated, looking at her daughter questioningly as tears filled her eyes.

“She has called you grandma,” Hannah informed her mother.

“Kay-ayay-hey,” Mary said again. “That’s so pretty.” She let her tears fall and hugged both the children again. Little Snowbird received it well, but Little Porcupine, feeling much too old for this kind of thing, looked up at his mother for help, but she only shrugged.

“Ma?” Michael interrupted, knowing that his sister’s son needed more time. Boys often did. “I think everyone needs to get settled.”

“Oh! Oh yes.” She looked at Hannah apologetically. “Are they hungry?” she asked, wishing she could ask her grandchildren directly. “I’m sure mine are.”

Hannah smiled. “I think so, yes. We have not eaten since this morning, but I’d like to meet my brother and sister first.”

Mary blushed. “Oh yes, of course. I am not thinking clearly,” she said, turning to her twins, who sat on the porch steps of the house, and signaling them forward. Hannah watched them approach, the boy trying to look brave, though he couldn’t take his frightened eyes off the scary Indians, and the girl holding her brother’s hand nervously.

“This is Robert Dennison and Kathleen Margret. They prefer Robbie and Katie,” she said to Hannah. “And _this_ , is your big sister, Hannah Kristín, and her children.” The two children looked Hannah over and smiled slightly; she looked almost the same as Magen, which made her less scary—and much less interesting. Their eyes shifted quickly to Little Porcupine and Little Snowbird, who were standing there with an expectant look in their eyes. Robbie and Katie were _quite_ interested in them and, instinctively knowing they wouldn’t be able to communicate verbally, they smiled their welcome. Robbie reached to touch Little Porcupine’s bow and Little Snowbird wanted to see the doll Katie clutched to her chest. All four children were soon grinning and giggling, and Hannah knew that they’d soon be playing, language barrier or not. Both mother and daughter smiled at how easily children accepted differences—given the chance.

“I guess I’ll go set up my lodge, if you don’t mind,” Hannah finally said.

Mary shook her head. “And I’ll finish lunch and bring it out.”

“We should probably release our horses as well. Hunter, would you mind taking them?” she asked the brother she didn’t think even remembered her.

Hunter glanced nervously at James, who nodded, then he looked back at his sister and shrugged. “Sure.”

“I’ll just take my things around back. Magen, would you mind helping me? I can’t set up my tepee on my own right now,” Hannah said, gesturing at her wounded side. Magen’s eyes widened with surprise, but, happy to help and see what Hannah had brought with her, she nodded.

Hannah then spoke to Many Horses again. “Hunter will put the horses out. Should he take them all?”

Many Horses nodded. He had watched her family closely and, aside from her father, he felt he could trust them. “Flying Hawk and Squint Eye will go with him to help. Brave Wolf will go with you. I will wait here.”

Hannah nodded and started toward the back with the four packhorses.

**~oOo~**

“You sure have a lot of stuff,” Magen said nervously, glancing at the young man who had followed them. He looked to be near her age, maybe a few years older, but he was as fierce-looking as the older Indian, and his lack of expression made him seem more frightening—and less human.

Hannah smiled at her sister. “I’d be willing to bet you have more in your bedroom than I have on all four horses here.”

Magen grinned. “Maybe.”

Hannah unloaded the first horse, handing her things to Magen, who made a neat pile where Hannah indicated she wanted it. The second horse carried the buffalo hides that were the ground covering and bedding for inside the tepee. The third and fourth horses carried the poles that would support her lodge.

Magen watched as her sister handed the horse’s lead ropes to the Indian man named Brave Wolf, and watched the man walk away with them. Having him gone helped her relax some, but then she stared at the huge pile of her sister’s belongings and wondered where it would all go. Surely all of it couldn’t fit inside a single tepee, she thought. “All right, where do we start?” she asked.

“With these three poles. See that they are already tied together?”

Magen nodded.

“They are the main frame.” Hannah lifted the poles with Magen’s help and adjusted them until she was satisfied they would hold, then wiped her hands on her stained leather dress. “Now we add the extra poles.”

Magen watched for a moment, then picked up a pole and leaned it against the central notch. “Like this?” she asked, staring up at the frame towering over her.

“Perfect! Now for the hard part, we have to cover this thing with that cover over there,” she said, pointing at the folded hides that she had sewn together with her sister-in-law many years before. “It is very heavy.”

Magen watched, and tried to help, as Hannah unpacked the cover, which was folded into a triangle, and tied it to a pole that she’d left lying on the ground. “I’ll need your help lifting this into position,” Hannah said. After the pole and hide were standing, Hannah instructed Magen on how to unfurl the cover and pull it around the framework of poles.

“What’s this made of?” Magen asked, as she ran her hand over the painted design of an Indian riding a horse. She wondered if it was Hannah’s deceased husband.

“Hotoa’e.”

“Hoto _what_?”

Hannah grinned. “Sorry. Buffalo. It is made out of many buffalo skins.”

Magen nodded. “How many?”

“Eighteen,” Hannah answered as they finished, then gave her lodge the once-over to make sure it was straight. “All right! All that’s left is closing up this opening, staking down the cover, and putting everything away. We’ll use these,” she said, pulling out a leather bag filled with wooden stakes. Using the travois that had carried her belongings as a ladder, she quickly climbed up and inserted the stakes into holes that were already poked along the straightedge of the hide, then walked around the perimeter of her lodge to secure it to the ground. Finally, she brought her buffalo hide furs inside and began covering the ground. Magen watched curiously, then she leaned down and looked inside.

**~oOo~**

Mary busied herself in her kitchen, pulling out more soup bowls and flatware and preparing more chicken for everyone. Occasionally she glanced out the window just to reassure herself that Hannah was indeed home. She could not help smiling as she watched her daughters working together to raise Hannah’s _tepee_ and wondered what Jon was going to say when he returned that evening. She was sure he’d be quite unhappy, but Mary wasn’t; she was grateful to have her daughter back and thrilled to finally be a grandmother. She just hoped that Jon would get used to his grandchildren. After all, it wasn’t their fault that they were part Indian.

**~oOo~**

“This thing is a lot bigger than it looks,” Magen remarked as she stooped to come inside. She glanced around, then knelt down on the buffalo fur Hannah had set out for her. “And it’s pretty bright in here...but how does a whole family fit in here?” she asked, thinking about how large the house she’d grown up in was and about how cramped it must be a one-room tepee.

Hannah grinned. “It can get pretty cozy, but the Cheyenne don’t typically have as many children as the whites; though some do...my mother-in-law had four children. That’s considered a lot. But only Flying Hawk still lives in her tepee. But some families can be larger, because grandparents often live with their children and grandchildren...but my husband’s grandmother was dead and Tall Buffalo, his grandfather, and our medicine chief, insisted on maintaining his own lodge. So their tepee was not that crowded.” She smiled then. “But _some_ men have more than one wife and that means many more children.”

Magen frowned. “But...that is...is _wrong_ ,” she sputtered.

“To the whites it is,” Hannah said, shrugging. “But it is just the way they do things...just custom. Some women actually _want_ their husbands to take another wife...so that her work will be less.”

“Did _your_ husband have another wife?” she asked curiously.

Hannah shook her head. “No, but I almost became Many Horses’ second woman after Windwalker was killed.” Magen wrinkled her nose and Hannah tried to explain. “It is custom that if a man dies, his brother takes in the man’s wife and children.”

“So why didn’t you marry Many Horses?”

Hannah shrugged. “Because I did not love him...not like I did Windwalker, and because I wanted to come home. Besides, his first wife, Thunder Woman, was not too happy about sharing her lodge with me. It just seemed better to not accept his offer...I guess it worked out the way it should; Thunder Woman won’t have to share her husband with me and I am home...where I belong...I hope.”

“Of _course_ you belong here, Hannah,” Magen exclaimed. “I’ve missed you so much. We’ve _all_ missed you.”

“Not Pa.”

Magen waved her hand dismissively. “Sure he has. He’s just too stubborn to admit it, that’s all. Once he gets used to...your children...and you being home again, he’ll be fine.”

Hannah couldn’t help but laugh. “And when did you become a liar, little sister?” Hannah leaned forward and hugged her sister. “I’ve missed you too,” she said tearfully. “You were just a girl when I left, now you’re a woman; I’ve missed so much.”

Magen was tearful as well. “Well, we’ll just have to catch up,” she said, leaning back and wiping at her wet eyes. Hannah smiled, but her eyes were focused on something else. Magen turned and looked up and let out a startled gasp when she saw the young man, Brave Wolf, standing just inside the tepee entrance behind her. She hadn’t heard him enter and wondered how long the man had been standing there—and how he had come in without her hearing him. He seemed to have an amused look on his face when he spoke to Hannah though, which helped to make Magen relax a little. At least he’s human, she thought.

“I think I startled your sister,” he said to Hannah.

“Heehe’e, I think that you did.” She returned his look.

“Your mother seems ready to serve...la-unch?” he said, over-articulating the unfamiliar white word.

Hannah nodded. “We will be right there.” He returned her nod and left.

Magen watched him go and let her breath out. “He scared me,” she said worriedly. “Do they always come and go so quietly?”

Hannah smiled. “Usually. You do not have anything to worry about, you know. He’s not going to scalp you.”

Magen blanched. “I kn-know. Wh-what did he want?” she asked as she leaned to look outside, wondering if he was standing out there listening—not that he’d understand them.

“He thinks Ma is ready to serve lunch. I told him we would be right there, but I want to change first. This dress is horribly ripped.” She paused. “Will you hand me that pack there?” Hannah was pointing at a decent-sized bundle.

Magen nodded and went to go get it. “Are those your clothes?”

“Uh-huh.” Hannah unwrapped the leather bundle to reveal a long, medium brown, fringed dress that was decorated with elk teeth and white cowry shells. The bundle also contained a beaded belt and a clean pair beaded moccasins.

“Oh! That’s beautiful,” Magen exclaimed, instinctively reaching out to touch the dress. “And so soft.”

“Thank you. Windwalker’s sister made this for me shortly after I arrived. Many Horses was not pleased that his brother had chosen a white woman and Flying Woman wanted me to know that not everyone felt the way her brother did.” Hannah smiled at the memory. “The moccasins came from Thunder Woman.”

Magen frowned. “Thunder Woman? But...isn’t she Many Horses’ wife? I thought she didn’t like you.”

“Yes, she is Many Horses’ wife, but she does like me. She and I were always friendly...it’s just that she did not want to share Many Horses with me...and her sister too. He is supposed to marry her sister soon...men often marry sisters. But I think it was just going to be too much for her.”

“Oh, I see...I can imagine.” Magen frowned. “I don’t think I could share my husband...if I had one, that is...even if it were you with whom I was sharing him.”

Hannah grinned. “Well, it’s not something I ever considered either, but it does seem to work well among the People,” she said as she untied her dress at the shoulders and let it fall to the ground.

“Good _God_ , Hannah!” Magen exclaimed, grabbing her sister by the shoulders and scanning her bandages and bruises. “What _happened_ to you.”

“You heard me tell Pa what happened,” Hannah said, hands on her naked hips. “We were attacked by Pawnee warriors four days ago.” She reached for her dress and winced at the pain the movement caused, knowing that putting up her tepee had been too much.

Magen shook her head and looked her sister’s body over again as she helped her to step into her dress. Hannah’s side was bandaged, covering only _God_ knew what, Magen thought, and her ribs on that side were heavily bruised. Magen looked at her sister’s breasts; there was a bruise, in what appeared to be the shape of a footprint, right in the center of them. And Hannah had several cuts and bruises up and down both of her arms.

“You said you were shot.”

Hannah paused in dressing herself. “Yes. An arrow went in right here.” She pointed at her side. “But I’m fine, Magen. And Ma’s waiting...can you help me with this?”

Magen nodded and dutifully reached to tie Hannah’s dress at her shoulders. When she finished, Hannah smoothed the front of her dress and looked up into Magen’s tear-filled eyes.

“Oh Magen, please don’t cry. I have bruises and they do hurt, but they will fade and I will be as good as new. I really _am_ fine, I promise you...and I’m home now, so you do not have to worry anymore. All right?” Hannah said as she wiped the tears from her sister’s face. Magen nodded again and Hannah smiled. “Now, let’s go eat.” 

[1]. ke’eehe (ke’éehe) – grandma (baby talk)


	10. Chapter 10

** CHAPTER TEN **

While Hannah had worked to set up her lodge, Many Horses and Brave Wolf had spent the time surveying the Cooke land, the enormous ranch house, the two-story barn that housed their animals—and cowhands above—and the endless sea of fences that kept the animals penned in.

_It is strange, how the ve’ho’e_[1] _close everything in_ , the two men thought as they watched Flying Hawk, Squint Eye, and Hunter race their horses around the corral.

 

Michael and James were sitting on the porch, boots up on the rail, their eyes going from the four giggling children to Hunter, who rode with the two young men of approximately the same age, to the two sterner-looking Indian men at the corral fence. They couldn’t help making bets as to whether or not their father would actually allow Hannah and her children to stay.

“Stop that!” Mary admonished, taking a swipe at her two oldest sons. “I will not have you making such wagers. I don’t care _what_ your father says. They’re stayin’!”

“Of course, Ma,” her sons said in unison. They hadn’t meant to upset her, but they still wondered.

**~oOo~**

When Hannah and Magen came around the house, they saw that someone had set several blankets on the ground and that lunch had been placed just so. Hannah noticed that her mother was sitting there, nervously twisting her hands in her lap, while she watched the four children playing a game of chase, which, Hannah was sure, had been instigated by Little Snowbird; it was her favorite game. It made Hannah smile.

“I am sorry to keep everyone waiting,” Hannah apologized.

Mary smiled and got to her feet, then called everyone in to eat.

**~oOo~**

With the Indians not knowing what to do with the metal instruments and having the foreign foods to deal with, it was an awkward meal. They ate mostly in silence, asking Hannah only a few questions and following her lead most of the time. Occasionally someone asked them a question, which Hannah translated, but mostly there was no communication between the Indians and Hannah’s family.

Everyone listened to Mary chatter on, and though he did not understand the woman’s words, Many Horses knew she was happy to have her daughter home and grateful to them for bringing her. He still wondered about the father, but he liked the woman called Mer-ry very much. She was kind and forgiving, and she had done her best to make them welcome, despite her husband’s unreasonable behavior. But watching her, Many Horses couldn’t help but wonder if Mer-ry always talked so much; she didn’t seem to be able to close her mouth.

When the meal was over, Hannah and Magen helped their mother clean everything up. Hannah insisted on washing the dishes, but, refusing to enter her father’s home, she took everything around to the back of the house and the waterpump that was there.

“It’s my house as well, Hannah,” Mary argued as she watched her daughters wash the bowls. In her upset she had forgotten that Hunter was supposed to be doing this chore, but that didn’t seem to matter at the moment.

“I know, Ma. But unless my children are allowed in _there_...” she tilted her head toward the imposing house that hovered over them, “ _I_ am not going inside,” she said, shaking her head. “If Pa cannot accept them, then it’s better this way.”

“But—”

“Ma! We are only staying here for you! Because _you_ asked me to stay.” Hannah dried her hands on her dress, then touched her mother’s hand. “I do not like the circumstances any more than you do, but I _cannot_ go in that house. Not yet.” Her mother frowned and started to object, but Hannah stopped her. “Really Ma, we’re perfectly fine out here.”

Mary finally nodded. She didn’t like it, not in the slightest, but at least her daughter was home.

**~oOo~**

Hannah watched as Michael hitched his horses to his wagon, then smiled up into his eyes when he turned toward her. “Are you going to be all right?” he asked her.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I am home,” she said sarcastically.

He grinned and hugged her. “And I’m glad that you are, Han,” he said, using his childhood name for her. “Would you give Many Horses my thanks?” Hannah nodded and spoke to the other man. Many Horses only response was to nod in return.

“Well, I guess I better get back to town. I’m sure my deputies would like to go home for the night,” he said with a smile as he climbed up into his wagon.

“Hey, mind if I tag along,” James asked. “I don’t relish being here when Pa gets home tonight.”

Michael glanced at their mother, who narrowed her eyes at her second son. “Coward,” Mary said to James. He grinned at her. “What about the rest of your work?” she went on.

“Pa owes me a day off. This seems like the perfect time...and I was going to take off tomorrow anyway.”

“Well, I may be your mother, but you’re a grown man, James...you can go if you want to,” she finished, hugging her son. “But stay out of that saloon!”

He grinned again. “What happened to me being a grown man?” he asked. She didn’t answer and he looked up at Michael again. “Just let me get my horse,” he called over his shoulder.

In only a few minutes Michael and James were riding away. 

[1]. ve’ho’e - white man


	11. Chapter 11

** CHAPTER ELEVEN **

It was near dark when Jon came riding in. He had spent the afternoon angrily hammering nails into fence posts and hollering at his men unnecessarily. Shortly before dusk he had apologized to Hank, his foreman, and quickly told the man why he was so hot. He asked Hank to explain things to the men, so that he didn’t have to, and told him to have the men ready to ride out early.

Hank had scowled in disgust at the thought of redskins being on Cooke land; nearly everyone had lost someone to Indian attack. He had no love for the bastards himself, but he did remember the boss’s daughter and how much help she used to be. No one was shocked more than he when he found out the girl had run off with an Indian. He wondered how much she had changed in the seven years she had been gone. He knew all too well what time could do to a person, having had a sister who had taken her own life shortly after being recovered from a band of savages many years before.

 

After talking to Hank, Jon watched as his men left for the night. Then, when they were out of sight, he started home by himself. He needed some time alone and he figured the ride back would be good for him.

When his house finally came into view it was after dark. Jon stopped and stared at the glow that came from the windows before continuing on. That light usually brought comfort, but not on this night. Giving his ride a tap, he trotted forward.

Reaching the barn, Jon rode inside, then jumped down and unsaddled his horse. Placing his saddle and its padding on a low rail, he led the horse into his stall, then closed and latched the gate. Once that was done, Jon whipped off his gloves and slapped them on the rusty nail where he always kept them. Everything he did, he did by rote, without thinking about it; all his thoughts were on the events of the day—Hannah had come home and she’d brought _Injuns_ with her. He scowled angrily and stomped through the barn without taking in anything around him. Hunter hadn’t forgotten to clean out the horses’ stalls or fill their food bins, but Jon wasn’t of a mind to notice such things; he still fumed over the events of the day. He didn’t even notice that James’ horse was not there, or that there were more horses in the back corral than there usually were. Stomping his boots to rid them of some of the day’s slop, he headed for the house.

He had expected Mary to be waiting for him in the parlor, like she usually was, but he saw quickly that she was not. Walking down the hallway, he lazily tossed his hat up onto a wooden coat hook, then went to the dining room to get his dinner. Mary’d left it, covered with a cloth napkin, on the dining table. He glanced in the kitchen, but didn’t see his wife there either. Angrily, he grabbed his dinner plate and headed to his study.

**~oOo~**

Mary knew immediately that her husband was home; she was sitting on a chaise in their bedroom reading when he galloped in, and she’d heard the front door open and close as he entered the house. She’d waited, hoping he’d come up soon, but finally she had crawled into their bed and went to sleep. It was around midnight when she woke up. Reaching for her husband, she discovered that he still wasn’t there. With a frown, she got up to light a lamp, then pulled on her wrapper and went to check on her children and find her husband.

She smiled down at Robbie, who clutched one of Little Porcupine’s arrows in his small hand; her son hadn’t let it go once during the afternoon, she thought as she slipped it from his grip and set it on his bedside table so that he wouldn’t injure himself while he slept. Sitting on the side of the bed, she carefully pulled his blankets up around his neck and kissed his forehead.

She found Katie asleep on a buffalo fur on the floor on the far side of her bed, and she wondered how her youngest child had managed to get it upstairs without anyone being aware. Smiling, she pulled a blanket from her daughter’s bed and knelt down to cover her. She then noticed that Katie was also wearing a pair of Little Snowbird’s moccasins. Mary shook her head and hoped her husband didn’t decide to check on the children this night.

After closing the twins’ door, Mary headed for Magen’s bedroom. Magen slept peacefully, lying on her side with her two cats, Cali and Baby, curled up at the foot of her bed. Mary smiled and tried to close the door quietly. It didn’t work though; the hinges needed oil. When it squeaked, Magen rolled over.

“Ma? Is that you?” she asked.

Mary sighed. “I’m sorry Magen,” her mother said, coming back in and sitting down next to her daughter. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“That‘s all right, Ma, I wasn‘t completely asleep.”

Mary sighed.

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes dear, everything is just fine...now that your sister is home. I just wish....” She shook her head. Tears were welling up in her eyes.

Magen sat up. “What do you wish, Ma?”

“I just wish that she could be inside where I can check on her...and her children too.”

Magen hugged her mother. “She’s fine out there, Ma. I think Hannah would _rather_ be outside. You should stop worrying.”

Mary nodded and wiped at her tears. “You’re probably right.”

“Of course I am.”

Mary tried to smile. “You lie down now,” she said. “Go back to sleep.”

“Yes, Ma.”

Mary kissed her daughter’s hand, then got up and left. From there she headed downstairs to check on her son and find her husband. Hunter was just were she expected him to be, sound asleep in the overstuffed chair that had recently been put in his bedroom, his boots and hat still on, a book in his lap. Mary smiled down at him, then knelt to remove his boots.

At her touch, Hunter opened his eyes, stretched, then groaned. “Oh Ma, I can do that.” He closed his book and set it on a small table, then bent over to take off his boots.

Mary glanced at his book, _Little Men_ , then at her son. “Good book?”

He shrugged. “It’s all right. Michael brought it for Magen, but he said I might like it as well.”

Mary nodded. “I see.” She watched him remove a boot and drop it on the floor, then move on to the other one. When he finished he took off his hat and tossed it onto his bed, then ran his fingers through his long, blond hair. Mary suddenly noticed that it was nearly as long as the hair of the Indian men.

“So what do you think of your sister?”

Hunter raised a brow. “She’s...pretty. Even with all those bruises.”

Mary smiled. “Yes, Hannah was always very pretty.” She paused. “But that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Hunter shrugged. “I don’t know, Ma. It was a shock to see her...I hardly remember her.”

“I know.” Mary patted her son’s knee and stood up. “But she needs us now. This isn’t going to be easy on her...your _father_ isn’t going to be easy on her.”

Hunter nodded. “Don’t worry, Ma, I’ll be there for her.”

“Thank you, Hunt,” she said with a smile. “Good night now.”

Mary closed his door quietly, then went looking for her husband. She found Jon asleep on the couch in his study, his half-eaten plate of food on his desk, and open bottle of whiskey and an empty glass on the table beside him. Silently, she lay a blanket over her husband, then she sighed and put the bottle back into the liquor cabinet and collected her husband’s dirty dishes. Jon wasn’t usually a drinker, but no one could blame him after the shock he’d received that day. There was nothing Mary could do now except take his dishes to the kitchen and then go back to bed, so that’s what she did.


	12. Chapter 12

** CHAPTER TWELVE **

Jon awoke before dawn and worked on his books for a while before heading to the kitchen to get coffee. Usually Mary was up early enough to do this for him, but not today. He hadn’t missed that she’d come down sometime during the night, but the fact that she hadn’t woken him, told him that he was in the doghouse; she wasn’t pleased.

“Well, I’m not all that thrilled either,” he grumbled angrily as he slammed the coffeepot down on the stove.

While he waited for the pot of water to boil, he stared out the back window and at the Indian tepee that now stood on his property, a mere twenty-five feet from his backdoor. He watched as a steady stream of grayish-black smoke curled out of the dwelling’s center opening and into the morning sky. The top of the tepee was as black as pitch and he wondered if it had been painted or if the constant fire had turned it black. The dark top was covered with large white spots and there were two blood-red rings circling its bottom. And the area in between had drawings on it. From where he stood, he could see the skull of a buffalo and a drawing of a man that seemed to be walking in the rain. _Or maybe it’s wind_ , he thought, wondering why he was even contemplating it.

_God damned Injuns_! he cursed silently.

“Did you notice that in just one day, your daughter has turned this house completely upside down?”

“ _My daughter_?” Mary said with a raised brow. She had been standing there watching him stare outside for several minutes and knew his mind was working overtime. “She was always _your daughter_ when she was herding your cattle or branding your calves or mending your fences or mucking stalls. And now that you’re unhappy with her, she’s _mine_? Why are they always _mine_ when they’re doing something you don’t like?”

“God damn it Mary, that’s different!”

“Don’t you curse at me, Jonathon Cooke!” Mary fired back at him. “I don’t deserve it! And don’t use the Lord’s name in vain! Here! Put this away,” she said, shoving his cleaned whiskey glass at him so he’d know that she didn’t approve of his getting drunk and passing out. He took it, but didn’t leave the kitchen window. Instead, he continued to stare outside and gasped loudly when he saw the four, nearly naked Indian men and the little heathen boy appear and walk off in the direction of the stream.

“Oh great! This is just great!” He pounded his fist on the countertop. “Would you look at that!” he demanded angrily. “Those savages are damn near naked! And that girl of yours let them all sleep in her bed.”

Mary glanced out the window at her grandson and the retreating men. They were wearing what Hannah had called a breechclout, but without the leggings they had been wearing underneath the day before. She was surprised at their lack of attire, but she only shrugged. She’d seen a naked man before so it wasn’t all _that_ shocking.

“Where did you expect them to stay, Jon?” she asked as calmly as she could. “You wouldn’t let her children in the house, so she wouldn’t come in herself.” Mary lifted the whistling coffeepot off the stove, then poured two cups of coffee. “You can’t blame her for that,” she said, shaking her head as she pulled out a frying pan and some lard. “She’s stubborn... _just_ like her father.”

“I am not stubborn!”

“Of course you’re not.” Mary shook her head as she picked up several eggs and cracked them into her frying pan. “And don’t go accusing her of... _entertaining_ those men. You know very well that she’s not that kind of girl.”

“I know no such thing.”

“She’s a good girl, Jon,” Mary said as she waved her spatula at him. “Don’t let this chance to have her home get away,” she begged. “I need her here.”

Jon ignored the pain he heard in his wife’s voice and turned back toward the window. “Where’s James? I have seen neither hide nor hair of him this morning. He cut out at lunch yesterday and we have a lot to do today.”

“Well, you’re not _going_ to see him this morning,” Mary said. “He left with Michael yesterday...said he was taking today off.”

“Damn it! That boy’s never going to be able to run this ranch.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to, Jon. Just because this was our dream doesn’t mean it’s his, or any of the other children. You have to let them make these choices on their own.”

“Like hell I do!” he growled.

Mary gave him a dirty look, then took a deep breath and picked up her dishtowel. “You know what...until you can speak to me with a civil tongue, I want you to stay out of my kitchen,” she said, snapping the cloth at him. “Out!”

“I’ll be in the south pasture with the men. Make sure Hunter cleans out the barn.” With that he left the house.

**~oOo~**

The sun hadn’t been up long when Magen came down the back stairs and into the kitchen with the twins, followed shortly by Hunter. Mary smiled at her four sleepy-eyed children and set a bowl of goat’s milk down on the ground for Magen’s cats.

“You can smell food cooking a mile away, son,” she said, giving Hunter’s long blond hair a gentle tug. “But you’re not getting one bite until you’ve cleaned the barn...you know that’s always supposed to come first.”

“I know,” he groaned. But as he walked out of the kitchen, he grabbed one of his mother’s fresh-baked biscuits.

“And take off that hat next time you come into this house, young man,” Mary hollered after her son. “And you,” she said, turning on Magen, “it’s your turn to milk the cow. I already got the goat.” Magen nodded and skipped out the door after Hunter.

**~oOo~**

Hannah had finished making a morning meal for the men, who had gone to bathe, and set it slightly off the fire so that it would stay warm but not burn. And then she prepared to go get wood. For the time being she didn’t plan on making any life-changes, especially if her father wasn’t going to accept her children. As far as she was concerned, they were still part of the People and they would continue to live that way, until she saw fit to change things.

Little Snowbird chattered away as she followed her mother out into the trees and picked up twigs that could be used for kindling while her mother gathered the larger pieces. Hannah noticed that her daughter had tied Katie’s doll to her back and was pretending to mother it while she worked.

“I see that you have Katie’s doll.”

Little Snowbird smiled. “ _My_ dahl,” she said possessively, taking it off her back and hugging it to her chest. Hannah raised a brow questioningly. “We traded.”

“Hee?”[1] Hannah was surprised. “What did _you_ give?”

Little Snowbird blushed. “The new moccasins that ke’éehe[2] gave to me before we left the People,” she said, looking embarrassed.

Hannah smiled. “Ahhh, Epeva’e.”[3]

“You do not think my grandmother would be sad?” Little Snowbird asked.

“Of course not. Pretty Bird would be happy that you traded for something you wanted more. And I can always make you a new pair when you need them.” Little Snowbird smiled. “Now come, let us get back. I want to help Magen and Hunter do their chores.”

“Hun-ter has chores too?”

“Yes,” Hannah said with a nod.

“But he is a man,” Little Snowbird said with a frown.

Hannah grinned down at her daughter. “On a ranch, _everyone_ has work to do.”

“What will _I_ have to do?”

“For now, you can play...that is what Robbie and Katie do.”

“But that is not work; playing is fun,” Little Snowbird said.

Hannah grinned. “I know. Isn’t it good to be a child.”

Little Snowbird smiled. “I will still help get wood,” she offered.

“Thank you. And you can help collect chicken eggs. And I will teach you how to milk the goat.” Little Snowbird smiled again. “Now...let us hurry back.”

**~oOo~**

When they got back, Magen was coming out of the barn with a bucket of milk, so Hannah and Little Snowbird followed her into the cellar where it was cold enough, even at the warmest time of the year, to keep things cool. Once there, they poured most of the milk into a glass jar, to store for later that day, and the rest into one to bring inside.

“I guess I’ll go help Hunter in the barn,” Hannah said.

“Do you want me to take Little Snowbird inside and feed her with Robbie and Katie?” Magen asked.

Little Snowbird looked hopeful. She hadn’t understood what her aunt had asked, but she did recognize her name in the white man’s language and knew by the way the woman moved that she wanted to take her inside. There was nothing Little Snowbird wanted more than to see the inside of the big, white house. She was disappointed, however, when her mother shook her head.

“No. I already have our morning meal ready. We will eat when the men get back.”

Magen frowned. “Aren’t you ever going to come into the house?”

“I have not even been here for twenty-four hours, Magen, be patient. And really, it’s not my call. You would have to ask Pa. As long as he refuses to accept Little Porcupine and Little Snowbird, I cannot let him into my heart.”

“I understand,” she said, opening up the back door and going inside. Hannah watched her go, wondering if she really did.

**~oOo~**

Hannah and Little Snowbird found Hunter about halfway through his morning chores. He was working hard and sweating profusely, and he didn’t notice them approaching until they were upon him.

“Can we help?” Hannah asked him.

Startled, he stopped and looked at them. He had been too young when Hannah left to really remember how much work she did for the ranch and he had hardly thought about her over the years. He had certainly been unsure about her when she returned with a bunch of Indians the day before, but now that she was here with the family again, everything just seemed right. He had a vague recollection of his oldest sister reading to him at night and fixing his lunch sometimes, just like Magen did now for Robbie and Katie. And he also remembered now how Hannah used to let him ride in front of her on her horse, all those years ago, even when their mother thought it was too dangerous. “Sure.”

Hannah showed Little Snowbird how to pour feed into the horse’s food buckets, then she picked up a pitchfork and started scooping the horse manure and old hay into the wheelbarrow. When they got to the last stall, Hannah saw that Little Snowbird’s gentle filly was inside, so she opened the gate, lifted her daughter to the horse’s back, then slapped the horse’s rump.

Hunter watched dumbfounded as his four-year-old niece raced her horse around the rear corral. “Wow! No wonder those Indians can ride so well. They start riding before they can do much of anything else.”

Hannah only smiled.

**~oOo~**

That evening when Jon rode in, he saw his wife sitting on the front porch smiling and talking to their children. She had dinner set out and he noticed that she was wearing a fresh dress; she looked as pretty as she ever had to him, and he wished things could be different, that he could be as easygoing as she. But it just was not in his nature.

Hannah and Magen were sitting there beside her, sipping glasses of lemonade, while Hunter sat on the railing laughing at something Hannah had just said. He wondered what it was and thought that it almost looked like old times. He had to remind himself that it wasn’t, that _everything_ was different now.

Jon looked his oldest daughter over and scowled; she was wearing an animal skin dress, though, thank the Lord, it wasn’t the shredded one she had had on when she’d arrived the day before.

As he watched, Robbie and Katie came running around the corner with the little breeds in tow; he couldn’t help the grimace that crossed his face as all four of them tumbled to the ground giggling loudly. That was when everyone looked up and noticed him standing in front of the barn watching them. Robbie and Katie got up and ran to him, but everyone else stayed where they were.

“Papa!” Robbie exclaimed happily.

“Poppy, you’re home!” Katie squealed at the same time, clapping her hands and grinning up at him.

Jon caught them in his arms and started walking toward the house. He immediately noticed that his little daughter was wearing a pair of Indian moccasins and glowered at Hannah as he approached.

Putting the twins down, he turned on Hannah. “What the hell are these?” he demanded angrily, pointing down at Katie’s feet. Katie immediately shrank away from him, making every effort to hide her _new_ shoes.

Hannah looked at Katie’s feet and shrugged. “They look like shoes to me,” she returned nonchalantly, staying calmly in her seat.

“Damn it, girl!” Jon cursed, taking the front steps two at a time. “Don’t you use that tone with me! I will not have it.” Now he was standing on the porch over his daughter.

Hannah stood, placed her hands on her hips, and glared up at her father defiantly; at only five feet six inches, she was significantly shorter than he, but that didn’t seem to deter her. A few strands of her short hair had fallen from its tie; she pushed them behind her ears as she faced him. “And I will not have you swearing at me, Pa. You’re scaring the children.”

“Who cares!” he roared, forgetting that his own young children were standing there as well. “I’m sure the little heathens have seen far worse. Look at you! All beaten to hell,” he gestured at her face. “Did they witness what those damned savages did to you? I’d bet the little animals see violence all the time.”

Hannah’s face reddened. “Actually they haven’t, Pa. And I don’t see _them_ acting like animals!” she said through gritted teeth. “As far as I’m concerned, the only _heathen_ here is _you_!”

“How dare you talk to me like that!” he yelled, his fists balling at his sides. “I won’t have it on my property!”

“Go ahead, hit me,” she whispered. “What’s another bruise?”

He shook, furious at her audacity, but he grinned inwardly, impressed that she refused to back down. She had always been a tough cookie. He did admire her for that; he always had. She had grit.

And then he realized what she’d said. “I wasn’t going to hit you,” he snapped, visibly relaxing his fists. “I’ve never hit any one of my children.” It came out a whisper.

Hannah glanced at her mother and took a deep breath. She really didn’t want to upset anyone, especially not her mother, but Mary was standing there with tears in her eyes and staring at the ground. And Magen and Hunter hardly looked any better.

“They are just _children_ , Pa...they can’t help how they came to be. Why do you have to be so cruel?” She paused. “And it’s not just my children you’re scaring,” she whispered.

He glanced at the four frightened faces that stared up at him. Katie was crouched at Robbie’s feet while he tried to hide behind the railing at the bottom of the steps. And Hannah’s two had taken a few steps backward, Little Porcupine standing protectively in front of _his_ sister, with her holding onto him tightly and peeking around his side to watch the display. Jon took a deep breath, then he looked at his wife. “Why’re we eatin’ outside?”

Mary wiped at a tear and raised a brow. “Shall I set the table for thirteen?” she challenged.

Jon ran his hand through his graying blond hair and looked at each face staring up at him. That was when the four Indian men walked around the house and into view. “I’ll eat in my study,” he said, quickly picking up his plate and going inside.

 

[1]. hee – Oh?!

[2]. ke’éehe – grandma (baby talk)

[3]. epeva’e (eh-peh-va) – It is good!


	13. Chapter 13

** CHAPTER THIRTEEN **

Over the next few days, Hannah did her best to avoid her father—mostly for her mother, who was becoming more and more frustrated, but also because she didn’t want to say something she might regret. There were already too many regrets.

But, avoiding him didn’t turn out to be very difficult; each morning he left before dawn and didn’t return until late, sometimes even after dark. And he didn’t come in for lunch anymore either. Every day James rode in around noon, had lunch with the family, then went back out with food for his father, so there was no chance of words being exchanged. And for that, Hannah knew her mother was glad.

On Sunday, the family had loaded up into the Cooke wagon and went off to church. In all the years she had lived on the ranch, Hannah had never missed a day of church; it was something her mother had always insisted upon. But when she woke up that morning, she decided that she and her children would stay behind. She wasn’t quite ready to face the townspeople, and their stares and whispers. She knew she was the talk of the town and would rather go there on any day other than Sunday; _everyone_ was always there on Sunday to go to church.

No, we’ll stay here today, she thought as she waved goodbye to Robbie and Katie, who were vigorously waving in return and calling out their farewells.

Hannah smiled. She was glad that she would have most of the day to relax without having to worry that she’d do or say something to make her father angry, or that her children would anger him just by being there. She knew that just their presence displeased him and she wondered if he would ever accept her children and let her back into his heart. Sighing sadly, she decided to take her children swimming and fishing in the stream.

Before they left, Many Horses informed her that he and the other men were planning to go hunting again. He had brought back a deer two days before, but wanted to see what else was out there. She had tried to explain that it wasn’t necessary, that her family had plenty of food, but he had wanted to go anyway, and she figured that it was probably better that they keep busy; that’s what she planned to do—keep busy.

**~oOo~**

It was late afternoon when Little Snowbird came running around to the back of the house. She had been in the front watching Little Porcupine ride his pony around, while their mother worked in the back.

“Nahko’e,[1] Nahko’e,” she called excitedly. “Come quick!”

Hannah had finished gutting and cleaning the rabbits the men had brought back for her and had them roasting on skewers over a small fire. She had wiped her bloody hands on the grass, and now she was leaning over the deer hide she had staked to the ground. She had cooked a portion of the deer the day before, but the majority of it was hanging on a wooden frame, drying in the sun. She also had a deer meat and vegetable stew cooking in her buffalo-stomach pot. That would be their evening meal and it already smelled delicious.

When Little Snowbird came to a stop in front of her, she glanced over at the Many Horses and the others. Now that their hunting was finished, the men were sitting by yet another fire working on their weapons and talking. Hannah signaled that she was going to go see what all the excitement was about; they only nodded. She knew it wasn’t necessary to tell them what she was doing, but with all the uncertainty, she thought it was a good idea. Quickly, she stood up and walked to the water pump to wash her hands.

“Come, Nahko’e,” Little Snowbird said again, tugging impatiently on her mother’s sleeve. “Come to the coh-ral.” Little Snowbird said the last word in English.

“Calm down, naneso.[2] What’s the fuss?” she asked her daughter. But she never got an answer because the child had run back to the front of the house. Hannah could only follow, Gopher and Lady on her heels.

When she reached the corral, she saw that Little Snowbird had climbed up and was standing on the second to top rail watching Little Porcupine do tricks on his pony.

“Look, Nahko’e!” she said, pointing. “When can I stand on my pony’s back?”

“Girls do not ride like that,” Hannah replied.

“But you do,” Little Snowbird insisted. “I saw neho’eehe[3] teaching you.”

Color came to Hannah’s cheeks as she remembered the day that Windwalker had taught her how to do tricks on Whirlwind’s back. Originally, it had been about learning. When she’d first expressed an interest in the men’s warparties, her husband had firmly told her that women stayed in camp. She had argued, of course, but he had been adamant that his wife not turn into a brave. But later, when he’d caught her following the men one day, he’d relented and started her training, insisting that if she were to come along, then she had be strong enough to ride properly. This meant learning how to slide over the side of your horse to protect yourself from attack, or jumping off at full speed without injury to avoid the enemy, or sometimes even standing on your horse’s back like Little Porcupine was doing. That was usually done upon returning to camp, after a successful hunt, raid or fight. Her husband never expected her to actually fight with the men, though there had been an occasion or two that had called for her to take that stand. It was not the usual way of the People, but no one had objected after she had proven herself. And she had been glad for his training.

Hannah smiled as she thought about that first day. They had spent that afternoon alone on the prairie...riding their horses and swimming and loving one another. And after that day, they had made any excuse possible to go off alone to _practice_ some more. Even after their children were born they did this, as often as possible.

Blushing, Hannah wondered what else her daughter had seen while watching her parents. Their _practicing_ always started with the horses. She didn’t mind her daughter witnessing that one bit. It was what Windwalker always did to her afterward that caused her to redden—their swimming in the river and...and.... The heat of desire rushed through her body as she thought about her husband.

 

_“_ _Come sit with me, wife,” Windwalker said, patting the blanket he’d spread out for them. She was still standing at the river’s edge, looking out over the water as she let the sun dry her body. But when he beckoned her, she turned readily and walked toward him. As she neared, he reached up and pulled her down onto his lap, then pressed his lips to hers. She felt his probing tongue slide over her lips and sighed as she opened them to give him access. She could feel his manhood on her side, hard and wanting. She wanted him too and moaned a protest when he took his warm lips from hers and looked down at her. His eyes traveled the length of her body and then back up. He was nearly panting with his desire; he was as hungry as she. And her nipples were as hard as he was._

_“You look cold,” he said._

_She had seen where his eyes were and smiled at him. He bent then and slipped one nipple, and then the other, into his mouth, licking and suckling while she moaned her pleasure. This time when he pulled back, she was covered in tiny chill bumps and quivering uncontrollably._

_“That did not seem to help,” he observed with a less than serious look in his eyes. She could not help but smile again and she shook her head._

_“Do you want me to warm you?” he asked. She nodded, and gasped when, in one quick move, he rolled her over, placed her on the ground and blanketed her with his body._

_“Are you warm yet?” he questioned as he nibbled her neck. He received a giggle for his answer and remembered how ticklish she was there. Kissing her again, she shivered almost violently. “How can I warm you, my wife?”_

_“I know only one way,” she whispered._

_“Will you show me?”_

_As her answer, she reached down and took him into her hands. She stroked him gently, then guided him to her wet opening. She knew there was no question as to her warmth now. When she felt his tip brush against her, she wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him into her. She held him there for a moment before bucking him halfway out of her, then groaned when he drove in deeply. She could feel him all the way to her core. The moment was building, her pulling, him pushing, both of them straining to reach that final release. And when it hit, they both lay gasping for breath._

 

Tears welled and Hannah had to shake her head to return her thoughts to the present. She had to think hard to remember what her daughter had just said. She was about to respond when Little Snowbird squealed again and jumped off the railing.

“Look! They come!” she yelled as she jumped up and down and clapped her hands.

Hannah turned around and frowned. Their relaxing day was coming to an end. “It will still be a while before they get here. My father drives that wagon a lot slower than Michael does.” She paused for a moment. “And keep your distance from my father, Little Snowbird. He is an angry man and I don’t have the energy to argue with him this evening.”

Little Snowbird wanted to ask questions, but she only nodded. Her grandfather frightened her.

**~oOo~**

Jon pulled his wagon up to the house to let his family out, then took it to the barn to unhitch the horses. He saw his eldest daughter standing at the fence, watching her son, but he just passed her by and entered the barn to do his chores and to think. It had been a good day—good to get away from the ranch, he thought. He had needed that. He was glad the townspeople hadn’t commented; he had expected them to. And he hadn’t heard any gossip either, though he was sure it was circulating. Only Mrs. Kelly, with her grown daughter in tow, had asked about Hannah after the church services—said she had heard their _girl_ was back. He only nodded and left the Kelly women to talk with Mary.

Coincidentally, the preacher’s sermon had been about judging others. _Judge not, lest thee be judged_ , Jon repeated over and over again in his head. What does _he_ know? He’s never had a daughter who ran off with an Injun, he thought angrily, ignoring the fact that the preacher had made it his life’s work to know these things.

 

Hannah knew her father was coming, partly because she could _feel_ him, but also because both her dogs lifted their heads as he went by. She chose to ignore him. Talking to him probably won’t do any good, she thought, so why should I bother? Besides, I’d rather watch Little Porcupine show off. She tried to smile, but it never came.

She was still standing there when her father finished whatever it was that he was doing in the barn and came out to stand behind her. Again, she could feel him there, though she had not seen him.

 

Jon eyed his daughter’s doe-skin dress and moccasins. The dress was decorated with brightly-dyed porcupine quills and tiny shells that tinkled when she moved. Her dress fell to about mid-calf, exposing her sun-darkened, shapely legs and ankles that disappeared into moccasins covered in beads of blue and white. He noticed that her arms, bare from just below the shoulder, were just as dark as her legs and that her hair, which she had tied into two short braids again, was adorned with an array of eagle feathers. He sighed. Despite all she’d done, he loved her still, but he didn’t know what he was supposed to say to her; words had never been his strong suit. Every time he tried, he just ended up yelling.

He then glanced over her shoulder at her son. Nearly naked, the boy had been hanging on to the side of his horse as he raced around the enclosure. Jon was impressed by the way the child swung around the horse’s belly and came up the other side, all while the horse sped around. Now he was kneeling on his horse’s back, whooping and hollering unintelligible words.

“That son of yours...he’s pretty good on that there horse,” he remarked dryly.

Hannah turned to look at him. She was surprised that he’d spoken to her and that his comments weren’t full of hate, but she quickly masked her surprise. “Yes...he is,” she said, looking at her son and smiling. This time the smile came easily.

“Probably comes from being a breed.” It was out before he could stop himself.

Hannah scowled, but she didn’t comment.

“I hear those Indians are riding before they can walk. Is that true?”

Hannah shrugged. “Yes.”

“How old’s the boy, anyway?” Jon asked.

For a moment Hannah didn’t answer. Instead she just stared at Little Porcupine and thought about Windwalker. _Oh_ , how she missed her husband. She sighed heavily and answered her father. “He is six.”

“Jesus Christ, Hannah, were you pregnant when you left here?”

She groaned, wishing the man would open his eyes. “No Pa, I married Windwalker before he ever...before we....” She couldn’t seem to finish her sentence.

“You were married in a church, then?” he demanded, knowing full well that they had not been. She shook her head. “Well then, that doesn’t count, now does it?”

This time she didn’t respond to his question. There was no point, he would only hear what he wanted to hear. So, swallowing hard, she continued on with her own thoughts.

“Little Porcupine was born almost a year after I ran away.”

“Humph.” Jon shoved his hands in his pockets and stood there silently.

“I really loved him, Pa. Still do,” Hannah added tearfully, her eyes staying on her son. “I would not have given up everything if I hadn’t.”

He shook his head. “It was just too much, darlin’...just too much,” he said, and then he walked away.

“I know,” she whispered. But he never heard her. She wiped at the tears coursing down her cheeks.

**~oOo~**

It was nearly an hour before Hannah left the corral and walked back to the house. Her father was nowhere in sight, but the rest of the family was sitting on the porch. They all smiled as she approached. She had planned to only say a quick hello, then bid everyone good night; she still had work to do on the deer skin and didn’t want to leave it overnight.

“How was church?” she asked, offering small talk before she left the family for the evening.

Mary smiled at her daughter. “It was nice. Mrs. Kelly and Abigail asked after you.”

Hannah sighed at the mention of her oldest friend. The only thing that hurt her more than leaving without talking to Michael was not seeing her best friend one last time. “How is Abby, Ma?”

“She wanted to come see you, but I thought it was too soon.” Mary didn’t add that it was partly because of the Indians staying on their property, but Hannah knew it anyway. “She was married...for a time. I heard her husband ran off with one of those saloon girls.” Mary shook her head. “I don’t think she’s gotten over it.”

Hannah frowned. “That is awful. I’ll go see her as soon as I can.”

“I think that would be good...but don’t expect too much. She was hurt very badly. I don’t think she’s right in the head.” Mary paused. “And you know her father isn’t very accepting of the Indians...I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t want her anywhere near you.”

“I understand,” Hannah said, though she knew she really didn’t. Abby’s family had always been like a second family to her. Abby’s mother was a hardworking woman who allowed Hannah to spend the night in their home any time the girls had asked. And her father owned Little Creek’s largest mercantile. Hannah remembered that he was a friendly man, who had always let his daughter and her friend play store in the back room of _Kelly’s Mercantile_. And _sometimes_ he had even let them help customers.

Hannah remembered those days fondly, and she knew it would hurt her deeply if the man shunned her now because she had loved someone with all of her heart. How could loving someone that way be wrong? she wondered.

Not knowing what else to say, she changed the subject. “Pa talked to me,” she blurted out.

Mary nodded. “I saw. I figured by your posture that it was civil.” Hannah nodded. “That’s good...it’s a start anyway.”

Hannah nodded her agreement. “I suppose so,” she said. “I guess I’ll go out back. I have work to do.”

“Work? It’s Sunday, Hannah. You’re supposed to rest. Even your father doesn’t work on Sundays.”

“Many Horses went hunting today,” Hannah replied, as if that explanation should be enough. But when her mother looked confused, she went on. “Ma, the Cheyenne don’t observe Sunday as a day of rest. I have a deer hide to cure and rabbit meat to dry.”

“I see,” her mother said with a nod. “Do you want some help?”

Hannah grinned. “You’ve never tanned a hide.”

“ _So_! I’ll learn...you can show me.”

Hannah laughed. “Well, all right then, I can always use help...come on back.”

**~oOo~**

“What is this stuff?” Magen asked, wrinkling her nose as she dipped her hand into the large wooden bowl of foul-smelling batter her sister had set down in front of her. She was already leery of all the dead things she saw in and around her sister’s tepee, but the slimy grayish paste was even more repulsive than anything else there.

Hannah raised her brow. “Do you really want to know?” Magen shrugged, then nodded.

“Hestahpe.”[4]

Magen frowned. “What’s…hes-tah-pay?”

Hannah looked at their mother, who was trying to hide her smile, and remembered that she’d already explained the process of how the Indians made leather so soft.

“It is brains,” she said, then smirked as Magen yanked her hand out of the bowl.

“ _Brains_?” Magen stared at the hide with a mortified expression and gagged. “That’s disgusting!”

Hannah laughed. “No, it’s necessary to make leather soft. Most animals have just enough brains for the process, but sometimes we have to use the liver too.” Hannah indicated the smaller second bowl with a nod.

Magen glanced down at the other substance and grimaced. She looked completely repulsed. “Too bad they don’t have _more_ brains...if they did, they wouldn’t get caught and _we_ wouldn’t be touching this...this stuff,” Magen said as she shook her hand, flinging the _hestahpe_ in every direction. Mary and Hannah quickly turned their faces away, so as not to be marked, but it covered them anyway and the men all looked up to the sound of their laughter. Hannah explained what they were laughing about, though it wasn’t really necessary; all four men smiled their amusement.

**~oOo~**

Jon sat on the deck outside the twin’s playroom, looking down upon the _Indian camp_ that had sprung up in his back yard. He was sure the Indian men were aware of his watchful eye, but his wife and daughters were too busy working a hide, and enjoying one another’s company, to see him there staring. He had a smoke dangling out of his mouth and a glass of whiskey in his hand, and he was glowering down at the one called Many Horses. It still bothered him that the Indian men were sharing his daughter’s tepee, but aside from welcoming her and her children into his home, there was nothing he could do about it.

Then he noticed that one of the other men was watching Magen, almost staring at her, and worse, that Magen seemed to have noticed him as well. He didn’t know the man’s name, but he didn’t want a repeat of what they had experienced seven years before.

“Magen!” he hollered, dropping his smoke on the deck and stepping on it.

Magen looked up at the wrap-a-round balcony. “Yes, Pa?”

“It’s getting late...time to call it a night.”

She frowned. “Yes, Pa,” she said, giving Brave Wolf one last look before going to the pump to clean up. Somewhere along the way the Indian had become less scary to her—they all had—but her father still frightened her, so she hurried along.

Hannah watched her go, then decided to end the night. After saying goodnight to her mother, she cleaned up and put her children to bed.

 

[1]. Nahko’e - mother

[2]. naneso (nanéso) – my child

[3]. neho’eehe (ného’éehe) – my father

[4]. hestahpe - brain


	14. Chapter 14

** CHAPTER FOURTEEN **

In the morning Hannah woke up early to see Many Horses sitting alone by the fire. He and the other men had tried to keep mostly to themselves, but it was getting difficult; they wanted to go home.

During the days they spent their time hunting or went out riding, much like they would be doing if they were still with the People. Flying Hawk and Squint Eye often rode out with Hunter. Being the same age, the three young men seemed to be quite intrigued with one another. Hunter’s job was to clean the barn and feed the animals, and ride out south everyday to see to the herd that grazed there and take inventory of any troubles. Flying Hawk and Squint Eye found his work interesting, and were both learning to communicate with the young white man, despite the lack of translation while out on the range. This day, they had gone out with him early in the morning, leaving Many Horses and Brave Wolf there with Ve’otse’e.

“I would like to go see My-call today,” Many Horses informed his sister-in-law.

She nodded. She knew better than to question a Cheyenne man about what he wished to do. “We can leave after we eat. I would like to let my mother know...so that she can watch Heškovetseso[1] and Šeheso.”[2]

“Ho’neoxhaaestse[3] will be staying as well.” She nodded again.

**~oOo~**

“Will you stop by the mercantile and drop off the butter?” Mary asked. “I was going to do it yesterday, but somehow it slipped my mind.”

“Of course, Ma,” Hannah said, taking and securing the package of butter to her horse’s withers. “I was going to go by there anyway to see what kind of cloth they have...and to visit Abby.”

Mary nodded. “When do you think you’ll be back?”

Hannah turned and spoke to Many Horses. She didn’t know why he wanted to see Michael, but she sensed he’d be leaving soon and wanted to have words with her brother before he left.

“By lunch...I suppose,” she said. “Are you sure you’re all right with me leaving Little Porcupine and Little Snowbird here. I could take them with me. I know communication is...difficult.”

Mary smiled and put an arm around each of her grandchildren. “Of course leaving them is all right. I wouldn’t have it any other way...and we communicate just fine, so don’t you worry.” She knelt down and smiled at her grandchildren.

Hannah nodded and jumped up onto Whirlwind’s back. Then she looked at her children. “Be good for your grandmother,” she said sternly, though she knew they’d never misbehave. “And don’t bother your grandfather.” They nodded. “And Brave Wolf is here, just in case you need him.” They nodded again, then ran off to find Robbie and Katie before their mother could think of more warnings.

Mary smiled as her daughter turned to ride off with Many Horses. When the man gave her a stiff nod, she assumed it was his goodbye. For a moment she couldn’t believe she was letting her daughter ride away with an Indian, but she could think of no better protection. The man obviously cared for her; _all_ the men she brought with her seemed to.

**~oOo~**

For most of the ride into town Many Horses and Ve’otse’e didn’t talk. He was thinking about what he wanted to say to Michael and considering how he would say it without Ve’otse’e interpreting for him. It was time to go back to the People, but he still worried for Ve’otse’e. He wished, now more than ever, that he had made an attempt to learn the white man’s language. He hadn’t understood why Windwalker had had a desire to learn it, but it _had_ worked to his brother’s advantage, especially after he’d met the beautiful white woman he’d later married. Many Horses frowned. He still didn’t want to learn the language, but it irritated him that he would have to rely on a woman to speak for him, even if that woman _was_ Ve’otse’e.

Glancing at her discretely, he wished again that she had accepted his proposal. Not because he loved her and wanted her for his wife, but because if she had said yes, then he would not have to think about her father raging at her, which was the cause of his upcoming awkward conversation with her brother. All he could do now was ask her brother, My-call, to look after her. He would ask My-call to pass on his concern to the brother called Ja-ames, but it frustrated him that he could not speak to them without Ve’otse’e being there. Then he considered something else. He supposed he could ask the tseheseve’ho’e,[4] Blackhawk, to come help him. That idea made him feel a little better.

Hannah’s mind was on dropping off the butter for her mother and picking up a bolt or two of material, which she planned to give to Many Horses to take back to the village for Pretty Bird, Thunder Woman, and Flying Woman. She felt that it was the least she could do for the women that had taken her in and loved her when she ran away from her own family. She missed them dearly and wondered if she’d ever see them again. That thought made her sad, both for herself and for her children. It should not have to be this way.

And of course, Hannah was thinking about visiting Abby too. She hoped that Abby would be there and that they could have a few minutes to sit and talk.

“Would you mind if I dropped off this butter before we visit my brother?” she asked Many Horses when Little Creek came into view.

“Hova’ahane,[5] I do not mind,” he said.

**~oOo~**

As they rode into town, people stared. Some looked frightened, others hostile, but no one spoke to them. They stared pointedly at the beautiful white woman and her Indian escort and whispered, some not very quietly, spreading the gossip they had heard. Hannah heard her name mentioned along with the term _white squaw_ and she lifted her chin. What right did _they_ have to call her names? she asked herself.

When they turned the corner and she slid off her horse, Many Horses did the same. They both slapped their horses’ reins on the hitching post, then they entered the mercantile slowly, aware that everyone inside turned to look at them. A few people put down merchandise and left the store, while others just stood there staring.

“No _Injuns_ allowed!” a man called out from behind the counter. Hannah looked up to see Mr. Kelly; he was scowling, and pointing up at a large sign that was nailed to the wall behind the counter. Hannah frowned and spoke to Many Horses, who nodded curtly, then turned and walked back out.

“Good Morning, Mr. Kelly,” Hannah said, smiling pleasantly through gritted teeth. “I’ve only come to bring in my mother’s butter.” She slapped it down on the counter and looked up at him. “I would like to come in later to buy some material...if that would be all right?”

He frowned at her, then nodded. “Just don’t bring that _Injun_. We don’t want their kind in here.”

Hannah shook her head and rolled her eyes. “God forbid!” she snapped as she turned to leave. “Good day, Mr. Kelly. Please tell Abby I stopped by.”

**~oOo~**

From there, she and Many Horses made their way over to Michael’s office. A few people nodded, men mostly, though most people turned their noses up and shuffled away to watch from a distance. Only one person, a young man with whom Hannah had once shared a dance or two and had called friend, stepped out of the saloon and stopped them to say hello.

“Well hello there, _Hannah_ ,” the man said, grabbing her hand.

Hannah spun around to look at him. “Oh! Jesse!” she exclaimed, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the way he held her hand. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he replied, ignoring the man with her. “I’d heard you were back.”

“Yes...I _am_ back,” she replied, giving his hand a polite shake before removing hers from his.

He narrowed his eyes, slightly annoyed by the fact that she’d pulled away. She should be glad that I’m willing to talk to her, he thought. Not many others will be.

“I had wondered about your return,” he said. “You know how people talk.” He waved his hand as if all the talk was beneath him.

“Yes, I do know.” She scanned the street and the people watching them, then she looked back at Jesse. “This is my brother-in-law, Many Horses,” she said, presenting the Cheyenne warrior. Jesse glanced briefly at the Indian, but he was clearly not interested in introductions. Hannah then spoke to Many Horses, who only nodded at the white man.

“Well, we really need to get going,” Hannah said, backing away. “I suppose I’ll see you around town.”

Jesse nodded. “You can count on it!” he said, watching them leave, then turning to go back into the saloon.

Hannah missed the look of disdain her old _friend_ gave them as they left to find Michael, but Many Horses didn’t; it made him worry even more about leaving her in the ve’ho’e[6] town, alone and unprotected. He felt it even more important to communicate this to the brother My-call.

**~oOo~**

They found Michael sitting behind his sheriff’s desk, rifling through a pile of wanted posters and discussing with his two deputies, Jake and Billy, the recent stage robbery that had occurred a few days before while in route from Denver to Little Creek. He looked up immediately when the door opened and smiled brightly.

“We’ll finish this after lunch, boys,” he said to his men, as he stood up. Both men nodded and stood to leave, but not before frowning suspiciously at the Indian. Michael watched them go, then came around his desk to hug his sister.

“Sorry I haven’t been able to get back out to the ranch since that first day...things have gotten a little crazy around here. There’s been another stage robbery.”

“ _Another_?” Hannah asked.

Michael nodded. “Seems these fellas are causing quite the uproar,” he said, picking up a wanted poster and showing them. “So,” Michael went on, dropping into another chair, “what brings you and Many Horses into town.”

“Many Horses wanted to talk to you,” she answered. Michael nodded and waited while Hannah spoke to her brother-in-law.

“I would like to speak to My-call alone,” Many Horses replied. “Ask him to get the man called Mo’ohtaveaenohe.”[7] Hannah frowned, but turned to her brother.

“Many Horses wants to talk to you...without me present,” she said. “He asks that Black Hawk come translate.”

Michael frowned. “Without you?”

Hannah gave a clipped nod. “Men do not discuss some things with women.”

Michael looked the Indian over, then nodded. “Tell him that I’ll go try to find Black Hawk,” he said, standing up again. “It shouldn’t take too long...I think I know where he is. Make yourselves at home.” He gestured at the chairs in front of his desk as he stepped through the door to leave. Hannah took a seat, but Many Horses chose to stand and look out the window.

**~oOo~**

They didn’t have long to wait. Michael quickly reappeared with the half-breed beside him. Hannah could tell that the man wasn’t very pleased about being there, though he wasn’t complaining, and he did look mildly curious. Many Horses stepped away from the window and Hannah stood up.

“Black Hawk,” Michael began. “You met Many Horses last time he was here.” The two Indian men gestured a greeting, then they turned back to Michael. “But...I guess with all the confusion that day I didn’t introduce you to my sister; this is Hannah. Hannah, this is Black Hawk.”

“Miss Cooke,” the half-breed said, tipping his hat politely.

Hannah smiled at him and stuck out her hand, at which Black Hawk only stared. No one in town had ever greeted him in such a manner before and he was shocked. Most preferred to ignore him completely and that was when they were being nice. But in this situation, he wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to do. He glanced at Michael, to see the sheriff’s reaction, then back at the woman’s hand.

The moment was awkward and Hannah had started to pull her hand back when Black Hawk suddenly reached forward and grabbed it. She was surprised, but she continued to smile.

“Black Hawk,” she said as he squeezed her hand firmly. It caused her stomach to flutter unexpectedly. What was _that_? she asked herself. Hannah blushed and started to pull her hand away, but he held fast. She stared up into the man’s smoky gray eyes and nearly gasped at the instant attraction she knew she felt for him. It was unexpected and she didn’t like it. It made her feel nervous about meeting him and then frustrated with herself for such feelings.

My _goodness_ , my husband has only just died, she thought miserably, her mind filling with pain as she stared at the man who was only a stranger to her, a man whose touch was sending a spark through her.

Black Hawk could tell right away that she was different. Different than the few Indians he had met through his mother and different than all the whites he knew here in Little Creek. He knew that this woman would not shun him as so many others did. A slight smile of amusement went through his eyes as he took in the blush that touched her tanned cheeks, then her doeskin dress, and finally her short, braided hair. He eyed the eagle feathers in her hair; he knew that women did not usually adorn themselves with feathers like men did, but for some reason they seemed right on her.

“Hannah,” he said, giving her hand a final shake and then letting go of it.

“Ve’otse’e,[8] actually,” she returned.

His brows raised with understanding. “Ahhh, I see now why you wear the feathers. You must be a strong woman,” he said in Cheyenne.

Many Horses nodded. “Yes, Ve’otse’e is a strong woman, stronger than some men. And even braver, _here_ ,” he said, thumping his fist to his chest. “Ve’otse’e has _earned_ her feathers. And not just on our journey to Lit-tle Cree-k. She saved my brother’s life on the way here, but she has saved the People many times.”

Hannah’s blush deepened, but she didn’t take her eyes off Black Hawk as he looked at her appreciatively.

Many Horses looked from one to the other, then he stared at Ve’otse’e strangely; she was not one to blush so easily, nor did she usually become distracted, as she was now. He glanced back at the tseheseve’ho’e, whose gaze was locked on Ve’otse’e. There was no mistaking the energy between them and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it; she still mourned her husband, but.... One thing he did know for certain was that it was nice to see happiness in her eyes again—even if she did not yet know it was there.

Michael watched the exchange with interest. He too could see that something else was going on, but without knowing the language, he couldn’t be completely sure as to what it was.

Hannah finally tore her eyes from Black Hawk and looked at Michael. “I am going back to Kelly’s,” she said, feeling slightly confused. “I wanted to look at some material.” Michael nodded and the three men watched her walk out, closing the office door quietly behind her.

**~oOo~**

Once she’d closed the door, she leaned against it and took a deep breath, in an attempt to still her quaking. Shaking her head, she tried to think about how long it had been since Windwalker had died—almost ten weeks, she thought, counting up the days, and the ongoing moments of heartache and pain. Only ten _weeks_? she thought sadly; it felt like a lifetime—and yet, it seemed like only yesterday her world had been turned upside down.

After taking another breath, she pushed herself off the door and started toward Kelly’s Mercantile.

 

[1]. Heškovetseso – Little Porcupine

[2]. Šeheso – Little Snowbird

[3]. Ho’neoxhaaestse – Brave Wolf

[4]. tseheseve’ho’e (tsêhésevé’ho’e) – breed (literally Cheyenne-white man)

[5]. hova’ahane (hová’âháne) - no

[6]. ve’ho’e - white man

[7]. Mo’ohtaveaenohe (Mo’óhtaveaenohe) – Black Hawk

[8]. Ve’otse’e – Warpath Woman


	15. Chapter 15

** CHAPTER FIFTEEN **

Michael frowned. “He’s worried about Hannah?” Black Hawk nodded. “Why? Has something happened that I don’t know about?”

“I do not think so,” Black Hawk said. He spoke to Many Horses and then looked back at the sheriff. “No, nothing has happened to her yet. Many Horses worries because your father does not treat her well...and because the townspeople glare at her. He does not like leaving her among people who appear to hate her, but it is time for them to return to the People and she insists on staying.”

Michael continued to frown. “Our father was very angry with Hannah when she left us, and he still doesn’t understand her, but he would never hurt his daughter,” Michael said.

“Many Horses just asks that you look after your sister,” said Black Hawk. “She is a strong woman, but she mourns deeply for the loss of her husband and Many Horses does not like to think of her being hurt further.”

Michael shook his head. “Neither do I...but I live here...in town. There’s not much I can do for her from here, and I can’t make that trip out to the ranch every day...or even every few days. I have a job to do. Even if I could get out there, I couldn’t stop my father’s words.”

Many Horses nodded after Black Hawk translated.

“And what of the townspeople?” Black Hawk went on. “Many Horses has watched the way people look at his sister-in-law. He has seen their angry, hate-filled looks. They do not want her here. Many Horses does not believe she is safe here in Little Creek.

Michael sighed. “I would have to agree with him there; many people don’t understand. I guess...they don’t _want_ to,” he added, remembering the half-breed’s comments about the people of Little Creek. “I may not be able to protect her from my father’s words, but she’s my sister, I _will_ look after her when she’s in town. Tell Many Horses that’s something I will _always_ do.”

He listened as Black Hawk translated. Many Horses looked pleased and nodded his thanks, then the Indian spoke to Black Hawk again. Michael watched as they went back and forth and suspected they were arguing. Black Hawk crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. Then Michael heard his brother’s name spoken, but that caused Many Horses to shake his head vigorously and start speaking again. Michael thought he looked insistent about something; something to do with James? he wondered. Finally, Black Hawk grunted and gave a clipped nod before looking back at him.

“Many Horses asks that someone else watch out for Hannah. I suggested your brother James, but he says James is gone long hours with your father and cannot do it.” Black Hawk frowned. “He asks that you allow me to ride out there a couple times a week.”

Michael glanced at Many Horses’ expectant expression and then back at Black Hawk. The half-breed looked tense. “And how do you feel about what he asks?” Michael asked, already half knowing what the man would say.

“I do not like it!” Black Hawk said, clenching his fists in frustration. He didn’t say why, because he wasn’t ready to admit to himself, let alone someone else, that he felt something for the woman. _I do_ not _have feelings for a woman I’ve only just met_! he told himself sternly. _Especially not a_ Cooke _woman_! But even as he tried to convince himself, he knew that just the woman’s handshake had already gotten to him.

“But Many Horses has reminded me that it is a warrior’s duty to protect women and children,” he went on. “He says that just because I choose to live away from the People, it does not mean I do not have that responsibility.”

Michael shrugged his shoulders and nodded. “I can admire that,” he said. “And I suppose it’s not a bad idea since I can’t make it out to the ranch to do it myself.”

“Whoa, wait just one minute!” Black Hawk exclaimed. “I never said I agreed with him. This is not my concern.”

Michael nodded. “You are right. I will find someone else.” Then a thought struck him; this man might be the perfect one to look after his sister. “I’d hate to see my father catch you on his land. _That_ wouldn’t go well, I’m sure.”

Black Hawk frowned at the challenge. He wasn’t stupid; he knew the sheriff was purposely goading him and he didn’t like it.

“No,” Michael went on. “You’re right, this isn’t your concern at all. It’s a job for the law...or the family at least. No reason to endanger someone who’s not up for this kind of work. And my father’d probably kill you if he found you there. I’d feel terrible if that happened. No, you’re definitely right, this is not your—”

“I am _not_ afraid of Jon Cooke!” Black Hawk said indignantly. “I may not have lived with the People, but their blood runs through my veins; I could easily walk onto Cooke property and he would never know it. I could protect your sister with my eyes closed.”

A shiver went up Michael’s spine. He had no doubt the man was speaking the truth, but he hid a smirk; he was pleased that he’d managed to get Black Hawk to agree to help him. After all, the sheriff couldn’t be in more than one place at a time, and it was his job to take care of Little Creek, not his sister. This was a perfect solution.

**~oOo~**

Hannah stood looking at the bolts of cloth, and ignored the stares she felt burning into her back. Though no one on the street was willing to greet her, everyone in town seemed quite interested in what she was going to buy. Everyone except the owner of the mercantile. Mr. Kelly had left the store shortly after she had entered.

“Well hello, Hannah,” a feminine voice sang out behind her. Hannah turned to see her friend’s mother standing at the end of the aisle and that the woman’s appearance had chased off the rudely staring onlookers.

“Mrs. Kelly,” Hannah said with a smile. “How nice to see you.”

“And you, my dear. It’s been...quite a long time.”

Hannah continued to smile. “Seven years.”

“You look...well,” Mrs. Kelly managed. “Your dress is quite...different.” She eyed the feathers in Hannah’s hair and noticed how darkly tanned the young woman’s skin now was.

Hannah smiled and ran a hand over her doeskin dress, causing the shells to tinkle. “Why thank you...I think. My mother-in-law made it.” Mrs. Kelly raised a curious brow, but she didn’t ask the questions that burned in her brain.

“So, how is Abby?” Hannah asked to change the subject.

Mrs. Kelly bit her lip and frowned, then shook her head. “She is...not so good,” was all she seemed able to say. Then she glanced at the bolts of cloth. “Have you chosen something?” she asked.

Hannah smiled sympathetically. She wanted to ask about Abby, but she didn’t. Instead, she looked at the cloth. “I can’t seem to decide.” She ran a hand over the deep red calico material in her hand, but looked down at a navy plaid. “I think I will take both,” she said, picking up the second bolt.

Mrs. Kelly smiled and took the bolts from Hannah. “These are both very lovely. How much can I cut for you?” she asked as she walked toward the counter.

“You won’t need to cut it. I want to buy all of it.”

The older woman stopped and stared at her. “ _All of it_? What ever are you planning to do with so much cloth, Hannah?”

Hannah nodded. “Yes, I want it all. I’m sending it with Many Horses...back to the People.”

“Oh!” Mrs. Kelly replied with a shocked expression. “I see.” She turned and walked back to the counter. “And when will this... _Many Horses_ be leaving?” It was a question the entire town wanted the answer to. Everyone knew that the Indians had been on Circle C property and no one liked it. No one could understand why they hadn’t been run off by Jon Cooke, a known Indian-hater.

“I am not sure. He says that it’s time, but he hasn’t said exactly when they will leave yet. I suppose it will be in the next day or so.”

“I see.” Mrs. Kelly put the bolts of cloth down on the counter and looked at Hannah again. “Shall I put this on your father’s account?” she asked her.

Hannah frowned. Money was no object, but she had no doubt how her father would feel about buying something to give to the Indians. “Umm, no. I will pay for it myself.” Hannah quickly pulled out the money her mother had given her that morning and handed it to Mrs. Kelly. The woman counted it, then slipped it into her cash drawer and smiled.

“Well, I guess that does it then,” she said, handing Hannah her receipt.

“Yes, I suppose so,” Hannah said distractedly. She stared at the small piece of paper in her hands and frowned as she gathered up her purchase. She had hoped to see her friend while there, but Abby didn’t seem to be around and Hannah didn’t want to pry, especially since Mrs. Kelly had seemed reluctant to talk about her daughter. She supposed it was not the time. “Well...thank you, Mrs. Kelly.”

“Oh, you’re very welcome, my dear. I do hope you’ll come back soon,” she said with an encouraging smile as she reached to touch Hannah’s hand. “We’ve sure missed you around here.”

“I have missed you too, Mrs. Kelly,” Hannah replied, surprised at the older woman’s very genuine tone. “It’s been much too long.”

“Yes, it has... _much too long_ ,” she almost whispered.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere, so you’ll definitely see me around,” Hannah said with a smile. “Have a good day now.” Hannah turned to go, but her mind was still on her friend Abby.

Mrs. Kelly listened to the sound of the fringe on Hannah’s dress swish as the young woman started to walk away. “You _will_ come back, right?” she asked.

Hannah stopped and looked back at the other woman. “Of course, Mrs. Kelly.”

The woman smiled. “Oh good...good. I’m sure my Abigail would love to see you,” she finally said.

“Is Abby around, Mrs. Kelly? I could see her now.”

Mrs. Kelly glanced at the door that led to their storeroom, and the stairs that went up to their home above the mercantile. “Yes, Abigail is here...but...I don’t think it’s a good time. She’s...resting.”

“Oh...all right. Maybe next time then. Will you let her know that I stopped by?”

Mrs. Kelly nodded, but the look in her eyes was pained.

**~oOo~**

As Hannah stepped outside and started back down the street toward the sheriff’s office, her mind was on Abby. She had thought about her often while she lived with Windwalker’s people, but she never dreamed her friend would be so bad off. She couldn’t believe her friend had been married and abandoned while she had been away, and worse, that she had apparently become so sad over it that she wasn’t getting out very much. Her friend was in a bad way, but she didn’t know what she could do, especially if Abby wouldn’t come out of her room.

Hannah’s thoughts went to Windwalker and a stab of pain cut through her. Her heart ached deeply for him; she missed him so much. It was still so fresh, but she wondered if her own loss was less than that of her friend; at least _she_ had good memories to hang on to and two children to love. Abby apparently, had none of that.

Hannah was still thinking about her friend when a rough hand grabbed her around the waist and dragged her inside a building.

**~oOo~**

“Where ya goin’ white squaw,” a drunken man slurred. Hannah grimaced at the smell of the man’s breath and tried to back away, but he held her tightly. “Oh com’on honey, I only want some of what ya been givin’ those Injuns. I’ll even pay ya for it.” He held up a few bills and grinned.

Hannah’s eyes widened in shock, but she recovered quickly and brought her knee up hard into the man’s groin. He gasped and fell hard to the ground, causing a roar of laughter to erupt around them. Hannah frowned as she took in the room. She was in the Main Street saloon. She had never been in here before, but her mother had warned her about going in places like this one and she grimaced at the rank odor of whiskey, beer, cigar smoke, and sweaty, dirty men. Men who, it seemed, had no intention of helping her.

“Why, you little bitch!” the man growled as he got to his feet. “Now you’re gonna give me what I want for free.”

Hannah frowned as he stood up and came after her. Instinctively, she reached behind her and grabbed the knife she carried at her back. Pulling it out quickly, she crouched down and prepared to fight. The man came at her fast and she took a swipe as she stepped to the side. Her knife caught him in the arm and he howled angrily as he went down again, this time crashing into a table and sending its chairs scattering. The crowd around Hannah exploded with laughter again and backed away as the man went back for more.

**~oOo~**

“I will do this thing, if you think that I should,” Black Hawk replied.

Michael thought for a moment. He was grateful that Many Horses cared enough about Hannah to worry, and that Black Hawk was willing to help even though he didn’t even know her, but having the half-breed trailing his sister left a bad taste in his mouth. If he knew Hannah, and he knew he did, she’d be furious that they’d even discussed this without including her, let alone having the two of them watching out for her without her knowledge.

Michael nodded. “I suppose it is a good idea. I will pay you for your trouble. How much will make it worth your while?”

“Payment is not necessary,” Black Hawk responded curtly.

Michael frowned. He didn’t argue, but he would find a way to repay the man. “We’ll have to tell her,” he finally said. “She’ll be angry as hell if she catches you following her, and it’s me who will have to deal with it.”

“Fine then!” Black Hawk said. “I’ll go get her.” He spoke to Many Horses, to let the man know what they had been saying.

Many Horses nodded, thinking that My-call was right; Ve’otse’e[1] deserved to know. “Epeva’e,”[2] he said, holding his right hand palm down and moving it upward and away from his chest.

Black Hawk turned back to Michael. “Many Horses agrees that Hannah should be told.” That was all that he said before he left to go find Hannah.

**~oOo~**

Black Hawk crossed the street and walked determinedly toward Kelly’s. He had never been in this mercantile before, because he knew Indians weren’t allowed, but he would go in today because he had to. It infuriated him that the color of his skin and the blood in his veins stopped him from doing the things he wanted and needed to do, but there was nothing he could do about it. He was still walking when he heard raucous laughter coming from the saloon. He almost ignored it, but something made him stop and glance inside. He was shocked to find Hannah brandishing a knife threateningly. Without considering the consequences, he rushed inside and grabbed her arm.

“Ve’otse’e!” he said as she swung around defensively and slashed his arm. Both of them stared as blood welled where she’d cut him and dripped down his arm. Wide-eyed, she looked around the room again, then started backing toward the door. Black Hawk gathered up the fallen bolts of cloth she had purchased and went with her.

Once outside, Hannah tucked her knife in its sheath, then started across the dirt street and away from the saloon. Black Hawk followed.

“What was going on in there?” he asked her as they walked.

“Apparently some of the men in this town think I should be working at the saloon,” she said hotly.

“Why?”

She did not reply.

“Because you lived with Indians?” he growled angrily, already knowing the answer.

She nodded, then stopped and frowned at him. “Here, let me take those.” She reached for the cloth, but set it down on the bench outside the medical clinic. “You should have the doctor look at that.”

“Do you really think that doctor in there would see to me?” he asked sarcastically.

She shook her head in frustration. What is _wrong_ with this town? “I am so sorry. I guess I’m not thinking,” she said, rubbing her aching forehead. “I guess _I_ should be the one to sew you up, since this is my fault.”

He smiled slightly. “Naw, you don’t have to. It’s not so bad.”

She stared at the blood running down his arm and shook her head. “You sure? I am fairly good at this.”

“Yeah, my father’s the animal doctor, he can do it.

Hannah frowned, then tore a piece of cloth off one of her bolts. “At least let me bandage it up...you’re bleeding all over the place,” she said as she wound the strip around his cut, then tucked the end inside. “There! That ought to do it...you will have your father look at it, right?”

He raised a brow. “Of course. You don’t think I’m some kind of heathen...that I’d go around with blood dripping out of my body, do you?”

For a moment she only stared at him, wondering what he’d meant. Unconsciously her hands went to the healing slices that she had made in her own arms—three on her left forearm, one on the right. Her eyes flickered over them, then she glanced at his bandaged arm. Was he making some kind of comment about her self-inflicted wounds? she wondered.

“Let’s get you back to the sheriff’s office before they send out a posse,” he finally said.

**~oOo~**

“Jeez Hannah,” Michael said. “Maybe Many Horses was right.” Hannah and Black Hawk had just come into his office; she looked battered, if not bruised, and they both had blood all over them.

“Right about what?” she asked with a frown.

“He’s worried about leaving you here without a man to look after you, and frankly I agree with him.”

Hannah looked at Many Horses and they exchanged a few words. It was obvious by their expressions that they had argued even though their voices were not raised, especially when Hannah glared at him menacingly. Then, when she turned her glare on Black Hawk, Michael frowned. Finally that glare stopped on him.

“No! I do not need this man, _or any man_ , hovering over me, keeping watch like I am some helpless old woman.” She stood there, hands fisted at her sides.

“I did not say you were helpless, Hannah. You know I don’t think that of you, but you _are_ a woman,” Michael argued. “What is wrong with—”

“Do you not know my name?” she cut in. “Tell this brother of mine what my people call me,” she demanded of Black Hawk without even looking at him. Michael looked at man expectantly.

“Her name is Ve’otse’e,” he said. “It means...Warpath Woman.”

Michael stared at her. “Christ Hannah, the Indians gave you that name?”

She nodded, neglecting to tell him that that hadn’t always been her name. “Aside from a few ignorant fools...whom I can handle,” she put in as she narrowed her eyes at Black Hawk, “There is nothing to worry about. There is no need to assign me a bodyguard.”

“ _Hannah_ , we just don’t want anything to happen to you,” Michael persisted. “Can’t you see that?”

She frowned. “I can, but nothing will, so back off!”

Michael wanted to pull out his own hair. “Something’s _already_ happened Hannah. Look at yourself; you’re covered in blood.”

She glanced down. “It is not _my_ blood. I am unharmed. I do not need anyone to take care of me,” she said adamantly, then folded her arms across her chest and looked away. “I will discuss this no further!”

“Fine...then I’m riding out as often as possible. You can’t stop a brother from trying to protect his sister.”

“Fine!” She nodded angrily at Black Hawk, then turned toward Many Horses. “I am ready to leave.” With that she went outside, attached the bolts of cloth to her horse and swung up onto Whirlwind’s back. That was where Many Horses found her, sitting rigidly, staring straight ahead, chin in the air, and waiting for him to join her.

**~oOo~**

“What makes you so angry, Ve’otse’e?” Many Horses asked after most of the ride had already gone by.

“I do not need you men conspiring behind my back. It is insulting!”

“Men do not discuss such things with women,” he said, ignoring her temper. “Women stay home to care for the home and the people, and men hunt and war and protect. That is the way things are. It is even the same among the whites. I have seen this while staying at your mother’s home.”

She stopped riding and turned angry eyes on him. “Then why did you give me the name Ve’otse’e? Have I not proven that I am capable of warring and protecting?”

“Yes, you have proven yourself...but even men do not do these things alone. Only in numbers can we take care of our people. Do you think we should leave you to protect yourself...alone?”

Hannah frowned in frustration. “Perhaps not...but I still think I should have been included in such an important matter.” She nudged her horse and began moving again.

He smiled. “My-call was trying to tell you. You did not give him a chance.”

“I know.”

 

[1]. Ve’otse’e – Warpath Woman

[2]. Epeva’e (eh-peh-va) – It is good!”


	16. Chapter 16

** CHAPTER SIXTEEN **

Mary was just setting out a picnic lunch when Many Horses and Hannah rode back onto the ranch. She looked up at them and smiled, glad they were back when they said they would be. And she didn’t seem to notice the strain on her daughter’s face as she approached.

“I need a minute, Ma,” she said. “I want to rub down Whirlwind.”

“Oh, Hannah, let one of the hands do it,” her mother said. “They’ll be back soon. Come have lunch with us.”

“Ma, it’s not the hands’ job to take care of my horses,” she said, realizing that since she’d returned, she had seen neither hide nor hair of the hands. “Including the men’s ponies,” she went on, “I brought in nineteen horses, so I will take care of them. I promise to come right back after I take care of these two,” she said, taking the reins of Many Horses’ pony and walking toward the barn.

Mary looked up at the Indian and shook her head. “What did you do to her?” she demanded, knowing he didn’t understand her and not expecting an answer. “She was never _this_ ornery before.”

**~oOo~**

The next few days passed quickly and by the very next Friday, Many Horses and the others were ready to leave.

“I want you to take this pony back with you, Many Horses,” Hannah said, handing him the best of her three Pawnee ponies. “Consider him my thank you for bringing me all the way out here when I know that you did not want to.”

Many Horses nodded his thanks, then looked at Hannah’s mother. “Thayn-kyou, Mis-sus C-oook.”

Mary smiled up at him, then looked at Hannah. “Can I hug him?”

Hannah laughed and told him what her mother wanted. He looked uncomfortable, but allowed the older woman what she wanted. The three younger Indians found it quite humorous until Mary wanted to hug them as well. Many Horses was then quite amused, enjoying the discomfiture of the younger men.

**~oOo~**

Jon came riding in just in time see the Indians mounting up. They had been on his property for just over a week, and though they had not caused any trouble, he was glad to see that they were leaving. He knew their departure wouldn’t fix the problems he had with his daughter, but having them there hadn’t helped much either.

As he watched, he saw that the youngest one, the one called Flying Hawk, was shaking Hannah’s hand—sort of, they were clasping each other’s forearm—and he could hear the young man speaking to her, though he had no idea what was being said. Hannah laughed and pulled the young man into her arms. Jon couldn’t help grimacing, but he did wonder what was so funny. He watched as the young man grabbed his horse’s mane and swung up onto its back. Then Jon frowned as the last Indian, the one that was always staring at Magen, stepped forward to speak to Hannah.

“Tell your sister that I am leaving my pony here for her to care for,” Brave Wolf said, holding the horse’s reins out to the young woman who stood beside Hannah. When Magen tentatively reached out and took them, he turned, then jumped up onto his other pony. Hannah stared at him for a moment, then spoke to Magen in hushed tones so that no one else could hear them.

“He’s giving me one of his horses?” she whispered.

Hannah nodded and grinned at her sister. “It is what an Indian man does when he’s interested in a woman.” She paused for a moment to look up at Brave Wolf. “Well, sort of,” she said, scratching her head in confusion.

“What do you mean... _sort of_?” Magen asked.

“Well, a man does not usually offer a horse and then leave...not permanently anyway. Offering horses, or a horse, is _usually_ a...proposal,” Hannah whispered the last word.

Magen frowned. “A proposal for what?” she asked.

Hannah grinned. “A proposal of marriage.”

Magen’s eyes became as round as saucers and she looked up at Brave Wolf. He stared down at her, his expression wistful. “But he doesn’t even _know_ me.”

“Well, I’d say that he’d like to,” Hannah said.

Magen grinned at her sister, then looked up at Brave Wolf and blushed. She was definitely interested in the young man and it showed in her eyes. But then she noticed that her father was approaching, and that he didn’t look too pleased, so she glanced up at Brave Wolf and said, “Hahóo,”[1] then she turned and walked away, leading her new horse toward the barn.

Hannah spoke quickly to the man, then waved as the four men rode away.

**~oOo~**

“And what the hell was that all about?” Jon demanded as he watched the Indians ride off his property.

“It was nothing, Pa,” Hannah said. “Brave Wolf was just thanking Magen for the dress she made his sister.” Hannah felt badly about fibbing to her father about why Brave Wolf was giving Magen a horse, but it had to be done; her father would never understand another daughter’s interest in an Indian. Hannah was just glad the part about making a dress was the truth.

Jon frowned. “She made a dress for his sister?”

Hannah nodded. “Yes, Pa. His sister is about the same size as Katie.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “So, you’re sure that horse isn’t some kind of payment for her?”

Hannah frowned. “What are you talking about?” she asked nervously.

“I’m talking about _payment_...for _Magen_...just like your damned _husband_ brought in for you.”

“Windwalker brought you horses for me?” she asked in confusion.

“Yes! Every damn year he came with more,” he said angrily. “Thought he could buy me off, but no amount of horses can buy a daughter.”

Hannah’s eyes filled with tears. She had always wondered where her husband’s horses went every year. Every year he had been trying to make peace with her father, because he knew she missed her family and wanted to see them again, but every year he returned with no good news.

“How could you!” she cried in frustration. “How could you be so...so... _heartless_? My husband did not want to buy you off. He was trying to show you how much I was worth to him. Like a dowry. To the Indians, horses show wealth, and let me assure you...he was a _wealthy_ man. I could not have lived better. Just look at my tepee. It is huge! I had all that I wanted, and some. And he was a good man...a good husband and father, and I miss him so very much,” she choked, breaking down into sobs. “But now he’s dead....” She collapsed to the ground. “And now you’ll never know how good he was to me. And now I’m all alone,” she cried.

Mary knelt down beside her daughter and glared up at her husband. “That’s enough, Jon!”

**~oOo~**

On Saturday night, after the family had had dinner and gone off to bed, Jon sat out on the back balcony, smoking and looking down into his daughter’s single-tepee Indian camp. He’d been sitting there for over an hour, watching her seemingly well-practiced routine. She’d gathered wood, with the help of her daughter while her son tagged along, bow in hand and an arrow at the ready, obviously there to protect his mother and sister. Jon couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face at the thought of a six-year-old protecting his mother, especially _this_ mother, who seemed quite capable of taking care of herself and standing up to anyone, including _him_ , her father. But as he thought about her unending defiance, his smile vanished.

Jon had watched her build up her cooking fire, then fix a meal. She’d refused to eat with the family again tonight and that had angered him. He’d wanted to say something to her about it, for Mary’s sake he told himself, but he hadn’t; he hadn’t been up to the fight he knew it would cause. And neither, it would seem, was she; her avoidance of him all day told him that, and made him wonder why she had even come back if she did not want to spend time with them. Was she as cold-hearted as she accused him of being?

But seeing how she interacted with her children, as the three of them sat quietly talking and laughing during their meal, and clearly having fun together, showed that she loved her family dearly. There was no doubt in Jon’s mind that she loved them all—or at least everyone, but him. He was still contemplating that when their meal ended and she sent her children inside so she could clean up.

She’d had a hide smoking over a low-burning fire for most of the day, but now it was gone, having been rolled up and brought inside her tepee only moments before. As Jon watched, she came out, vigorously kicked dirt into the flames, then turned on her heel and was inside again—but not before he saw the look of anguish on her face. He hadn’t spoken to her, nor she to him, since the day before, but he’d seen her several times and had received angry glares each time. But now, all he could see was the pain she was in.

She’s a firecracker, that one, he thought as he stood up. He had to give her at least that much. He was still angry with her for running away, for loving that Indian, but now he felt bad about making her cry the day before. Crying was not something this daughter of his did often and he didn’t like that he had been the cause of it.

Stamping out his smoke, he went back into the house.

**~oOo~**

“Again! Tell it again!” Little Snowbird said as she clapped her hands.

“ _Again_?” Hannah asked with a grin. “But I already told the story two times tonight.”

“But it’s our favorite,” Little Porcupine insisted. “Please, just one more time, then we promise to go to sleep.”

“Well...all right. But this time I tell it in English. And you must listen carefully to my words. Agreed?” They both smiled and nodded. They were getting pretty good with their mother’s tongue.

“This is the story of Ve’ho’e,”[2] she began.

 

Ve’ho’e,

a word that stirs the feelings

of us who are Cheyenne,

as much as any word

in any language can.

 

Ve’ho’e,

trickster guy,

we’ve long told stories about.

From centuries long past,

this guy from tribal genesis

continued still today

as our social nemesis.

 

Long before we met

the ones who now have the ve’ho’e name

the ve’ho’e of our stories

had greedy, sneaky fame.

 

Ehehpetse he was in stories

wanting more

than he deserved.

Then when the paleface came on the scene

he was also ehehpetse,

so for him the name’s reserved.

 

When we use this ve’ho’e word

we can speak in different ways.

We can put a person down

to wreck that person’s days.

 

We warn the one who breaks the mold

he’ll become like ve’ho’e man:

neve’ho’eve

neve’ho’eva’o

eve’ho’evoestomo’he

eve’ho’evetano

are far from a compliment.

 

Yet we also reflect comparison

with our things lower than

what is owned or built

by this ve’ho’e man

when we say some other words

of things we like to have

like ve’ho’evo’ha,

beautiful horse,

or ve’ho’e-mhayo’o,

modern house.

 

We call the non-Indian preacher man

ma’heone-ve’ho’e, holy-white man,

but also call ones of our own

who preach or believe that way

the same name, ma’heone-ve’ho’e,

an intended put-down.

 

Ve’ho’e,

just saying this one word

can mean so much among ourselves

whenever it is heard.

 

We still like to repeat

the funny stories of old,

about the ve’ho’e character,

we laugh when these stories are told.

 

We laugh especially,

as our ancestors did long ago,

when people of our kind

win out at a story’s end

over the guy with ve’ho’e mind.

 

And we say today with glee

of the ve’ho’e of our tales,

“It’s just like him.

That’s the way he acts.

Ehehpetse, his personality never fails.”

 

But a switch has been made,

a most humorous one,

that we’ve even forgotten about.

We no longer mean the ve’ho’e of old,

before the paleface came,

but the new ve’ho’e we know today

who seems to act the same.[3]

 

Little Snowbird clapped her hands again and smiled. “Is good po-em, Nahko’e.”[4] She held up her little finger, making the sign for one, and pleaded for her mother to tell it again.

Hannah smiled, but shook her head. “Not a chance, nahtona.[5] It is time to sleep.”

Little Snowbird pouted, but climbed into her furs. “Good night, Nahko’e.”

“Good night, sweetness,” Hannah said as she kissed her daughter. “Good night, my Little Porcupine,” she said pinching her son’s cheek playfully.

**~oOo~**

Jon stood outside frowning as he listened to his daughter tell her children the poem about the white man. It had taken him a few verses to figure it out, but after he did he wondered if his daughter remembered that she was, in fact, a _white_ woman. He was surely confused by her behavior, but he could not mistake the love in her voice as she tucked her children into their beds, just like any other mother did.

He was still standing there thinking when he realized she had come outside again and was standing a few feet in front of him.

“What do you want, Pa?” she asked when he finally focused on her. She had seen him watching from the balcony, though she chose to ignore him, and she heard him moving outside her tepee.

“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” he blurted.

Her eyes widened. “Yes, I know that.”

“Don’t you think you’ve missed enough church?”

“Pa.” She shook her head. “I will not go without my children...I cannot leave them here alone.”

He frowned. “What do _they_ know of God, Hannah?”

“Believe it or not, Pa, the Indians do know of Ma’heo’o.”

Jon frowned. “Who?”

“ _God_ ,” she said in exasperation, the word almost coming out sounding like a curse. “And I have taught my children many of the ways of the white man.”

“You taught them no English.”

She shook her head. “I did not see a need. I did not expect to ever return to the ve’ho’e.”

“Speak _English_ , Girl!” he snapped.

“White man!” she said through clenched teeth.

“Hannah,” he said in frustration. “Do you forget that _you’re_ white.”

“No, I have not forgotten. How could I forget? It seems that I’m reminded of that fact daily,” she ranted. “But I _am_ Cheyenne too...maybe only by marriage to begin with, but now, in my heart as well.” She clasped her fist to her chest and stared up into blue eyes so like her own. “Like it or not, I _chose_ to go with Windwalker, Pa.” He looked away from her, but couldn’t resist turning back when she touched his forearm. “I went with Windwalker, because I _loved_ him. And I chose to live the Cheyenne way, because it is a better way. It was easier on my heart, and on my mind. And that is enough for me. Why can’t it be enough for you? Why can’t my happiness be enough?”

Jon’s blood pressure was starting to rise; he could feel it. He couldn’t understand why she kept fighting him. “No one said life was easy, Hannah. Sooner or later you’re going to have to adjust back into _this_ life, even if it’s harder. That’s the choice you made when you stepped back onto Cooke property, so get used to it!

“Now, we’ll be leaving at eight o’clock sharp! I expect the three of you to be _in the wagon and ready to go_!” he snapped, then turned on his heel and left her to stare after him. She couldn’t believe her ears.

 

[1]. hahóo – thank you

[2]. ve’ho’e – white man

[3]. Wayne Leman, Ve’ho’e, 1993. (permission to use granted via FaceBook)

[4]. Nahko’e (Náhko’e) - Mother

[5]. nahtona (nâhtona) – my daughter


	17. Chapter 17

** CHAPTER SEVENTEEN **

Hannah was up before the sun rose on Sunday morning, thinking about the coming day and her father’s insistence that they accompany the family to church. She’d never really enjoyed church, but now more than ever she wished she could stay in her furs, because getting up meant she had to start getting ready to join her family in town—where all the gawking people would be.

Sighing, she added a log to the fire, then, glancing at her sleeping children, she picked up the buffalo bladders she used to hold water and slipped outside to go to the stream. She smiled sadly as she walked slowly through the trees, and tried to imagine that she was getting water for her husband. She still could not believe that he was gone. It was just too much.

At the stream, Hannah knelt and dipped one of her bags in the water several times, filling it to the brim before cinching it and moving on to the next. She smiled as she dipped the next bag, thinking about her mother. Every day Mary told her to use the pump to get her water, but every day she made the short walk to the stream because it was one thing that she could do that reminded her of Windwalker, and her time with the People. Thinking that her mother would never understand, she didn’t dare explain, but she wished that she could.

Holding the heavy waterbags, Hannah walked back through the trees and entered her lodge. Little Porcupine was sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Can I go wash now?” he asked.

Hannah nodded. “Yes, but make it quick this morning. My father wants us to go to church with the family today.”

Little Porcupine frowned. “Chur-ch?” Hannah nodded. “I will be fast,” he said, pulling on his leggings and leaving their lodge.

Hannah watched him go. _He_ , at least, seemed interested in their day in town.

**~oOo~**

Hannah and her children were standing in the front yard, ready to leave, when everyone else finally came outside. Mary walked out and smiled; she couldn’t imagine being happier. She watched as Robbie and Katie ran forward to join them, clapping their hands with joy. Hunter and James took a deep breath, not knowing their father had insisted that Hannah and her children attend church with the family and wondering what he was going to say when he saw them. And Magen was thrilled beyond words that she’d have her sister beside her in church, and that she finally had a young woman to talk to.

For a moment when he came outside Jon stared at his daughter. He had demanded her presence with the family, but for some reason he had expected that she wouldn’t comply, that he’d have to go hunt her down and force her to come. He was pleased that she was there and that there was no argument—then he looked at her dress and frowned. He hadn’t told her to dress properly, but he should have.

“Are you planning on wearing _that_ to church?”

Hannah glanced down at her dress and shrugged. “Yes...this is how I always dress.”

Jon frowned. He’d have preferred that she dress in trousers over her Indian garb, but it was too late to argue. With an exasperated sigh, he ushered his wife to the wagon. “Let’s get going!”

Hannah smiled, then helped Little Snowbird into her father’s wagon and turned toward her son. Little Porcupine had mounted his horse, so Hannah did the same. Jon frowned again when he saw her sitting astride her horse, but he didn’t comment. It’s not worth it, he thought.

**~oOo~**

Black Hawk watched from the treeline as Hannah rode off the Circle C ranch with her family. He had camped among the trees, about a hundred yards east of her tepee, so that he could do the job Michael wanted him to do. So far, he didn’t think he had been seen, but he could tell that she was quite observant. He was sure that she had _almost_ looked right at him while she filled her water bags, and he knew that he had been lucky that she had looked away when a few squirrels skittered across the dirt a short distance from her. He also realized then that he would have to be extremely careful.

When the Cookes were out of sight, Black Hawk jumped on his black and rode toward town, staying to the trees so as not to be noticed.

**~oOo~**

The Cooke family arrived in town just an hour later, shortly before it was time for church services to begin. Jon Cooke held his head high as he reined his wagon down Second Street, and into the livery, ignoring the stares they received from some of the townspeople.

“Good morning, William,” Jon said. “Do you have room for my wagon and horses today?”

The owner of the livery nodded. “Of course, Jon,” he said. “Just bring the wagon around back, I’ll put the horses in the barn. When will you be back to pick them up?”

“After services,” he answered. “We might have lunch first, but we won’t be gone very long.”

William nodded, then frowned. “Am I to house these Injun ponies too?” he asked.

Hannah took a deep breath and raised her chin stubbornly. “Yes,” she answered before her father could. William eyed her sternly, then nodded again and took her horses’ reins. Jon only scowled before ushering his family off to church, and Hannah frowned; she couldn’t tell if his scowl was intended for her or the livery owner.

**~oOo~**

“Well, wasn’t that a lovely sermon,” Mrs. Kelly said to the preacher’s wife. “I only wish Sunday happened more than once a week.” She glanced at her silent daughter and frowned. Abigail was sitting under a tree, but she wasn’t interacting with anyone. It was always the same; she went because her father insisted, but she always seemed miles away.

“I can think of many who wish Sunday came _less_ often,” Mrs. Johnson replied with a lighthearted smile. She glanced at Abigail Kelly and gave her friend’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Things like this take time, Laura. You must be patient.”

“It’s been over a year, Carol. How much longer can it take?” she asked with tears in her eyes. She wiped them fast when she saw the three Cooke women approaching.

“Good morning, Carol. Laura,” Mary said. “You both look well today.”

Carol smiled. “It’s a lovely day.”

Laura tried to smile. “Yes, I am quite fine.”

“And how is Abigail today?” Mary asked. Mrs. Kelly glanced over at her daughter, then shrugged, her tears returning.

“Mrs. Kelly...would it be all right if I went over and talked to Abby?” Hannah asked her friend’s mother.

Laura looked over at her daughter and shrugged again. “I don’t see how it could hurt. She’s not herself, though, Hannah.”

Hannah nodded and walked away.

**~oOo~**

“Hello Abby,” Hannah said, after standing before her friend unacknowledged for a time. “It’s been quite a long time.”

Abigail stared for a moment, then blinked and looked up at her. “Hannah? I heard you were back.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Your mother said so...last week at church...I think.” She was frowning, as if remembering were painful. “And my mother...she said you came into the store. But I didn’t see you, so I wasn’t sure. I don’t always believe what I hear.”

Hannah looked at her sympathetically, then knelt down in front of her. “Neither do I, Abbs.”

Abigail looked around, then back at her friend. “And sometimes...I don’t even believe what I see,” she whispered. “Are you really here, Hannie?”

It was all Hannah could do not to let out a sob. “I am definitely here, Abby.” Hannah reached out and touched her friend’s sad face. “I’m home.”

“Where did you go, Hannah?” Abigail looked up at her with a confused frown. “You were here...and then you weren’t.”

Still kneeling, Hannah took Abigail’s hand in hers and squeezed it. “I ran away to get married...don’t you remember?”

Abigail’s brows knotted in consternation. “Married?” she laughed sardonically. “Now, why would any girl want to do a fool thing like _that_?” she asked, shaking her head. Then she leaned forward and whispered, “There isn’t a man who’s good for anything, you know. They’re all bad. I know...I was married once.”

Hannah frowned. She didn’t think her friend was all there, but she didn’t want to argue with her. Instead she smiled and hugged her friend, wishing there was something she could do. For a moment she looked at the blank expression on Abby’s face, then she turned when she heard her father’s voice.

“Hannah!” Jon called. “It’s time to leave!”

“Coming, Pa,” she answered before looking back at Abigail. “It’s good seeing you, Abbs.” She took up Abigail’s hand again and smiled at her. “Maybe we could have lunch sometime soon. Would you like that?” Abigail nodded and Hannah smiled. “Well good then. I’ll come into town in a few days to make plans...is that all right with you?”

Abigail nodded again, then she frowned and grabbed Hannah’s hand. “Will you _really_ come back?” she asked desperately.

Hannah nearly cried at the look on Abigail’s face. “Yes, of course I’ll come back,” she answered. “I will come back on Wednesday...I promise.”

Abigail nodded and a look of anticipation went through her face. “I would like to have lunch with you, Hannie,” she finally said. “Maybe Wednesday will be good.”

Hannah smiled. “All right...good. But I have to go now, Abbs...my Pa is calling me.”

Abigail nodded. “I understand,” she whispered. “Men are _so_ demanding.” She shook her head and turned to stare at nothing. Hannah didn’t want to leave her, but once again she heard her father calling.

**~oOo~**

For a moment, Hannah stared at the sign that hung outside the Main Street restaurant. It read, _No Indians! No Exceptions!_ She frowned and looked at her children. They had no idea what the sign said, but it caused her pain that they were considered less because of the color of their skin and their mixed blood. When they lived with the People it had never been important. No one cared that they were part white, or that _she_ was _all_ white. There, they had just been a part of the village. Hannah wondered if it could ever be that way here.

With a sigh, she looked up at her father. “We will just go home,” she said proudly, her chin in the air. I will _not_ let this town break me, she thought silently.

Jon only nodded, and watched as his daughter started across the street with her children. He could have told her it was going to be this way, but he hadn’t; he knew he didn’t need to. There was nothing he could do about what the townspeople said and did, and thought. Hell, he couldn’t seem to change what _he_ thought, and she was _his_ daughter.

**~oOo~**

With a scowl, Michael watched his father enter the restaurant with the rest of the family, then he ran after his sister, scooping up Little Snowbird when he reached them.

“I’m sure I could convince them to let your children come into the restaurant, Hannah,” he said, walking fast to keep up with her. “Being sheriff has _some_ perks.”

“Do not bother. It is not worth it to me,” she said, stopping and holding her arms out to take her daughter.

He frowned, then released the child. “It is to me. I want us all to have lunch together...as a family, just like always. It’s been so long.”

Hannah searched his face for deception, though she knew if there was only one she could trust, it was Michael. She wanted what he wanted, to have lunch as a family, but it would not happen that day. “Another day, perhaps,” she said, starting off again.

”Then I’ll walk with you to the livery,” Michael said, staying on her heels. He knew Black Hawk was probably keeping watch, from somewhere, even though he hadn’t seen the man all morning, but he wanted to at least get her and the children mounted up before he joined the others. Hannah only nodded.

Michael frowned with worry as he walked silently beside her. He could tell that she was angry, but he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He couldn’t force people to accept her and her children, and he wasn’t sure how he was to keep her safe, if there were truly those that wished to hurt her. And she didn’t seem to understand how difficult the situation was for him. He wanted to protect her twenty-four hours a day, but the job he had in town prevented it and, much to his frustration, she had refused Black Hawk’s protection. In the end, Michael had seen no alternative but to go to Black Hawk on the sly, and it troubled him greatly.

“I could ride home with you,” he offered while they waited for the man at the livery to bring Hannah her horses.

“Thank you, but that will not be necessary.” She smiled up at him. “We will be all right.” She lifted Little Snowbird up to sit behind Little Porcupine.

Michael nodded. “You’re sure?”

Hannah smiled. “Of course.” She leaned to hug him, then jumped onto Whirlwind. “I will be coming into town on Wednesday, to have lunch with Abby. Can I stop by?”

“You’re always welcome to stop by, Hannah...you know that.”

“Yes, I know. And thank you, Michael,” she said, leaning down to hug him again. “You’re the best.” With that she gave her mount a nudge and started away.

**~oOo~**

Michael watched her ride away, then went looking for Black Hawk. He didn’t have far to go; as he crossed the street, he saw the man out of the corner of his eye.

“I was just going to come look for you,” he said when the mixed man stopped in front of him.

“No need to look,” Black Hawk replied. “I am here.

“Have you been, uhh...attending... _business_?” Michael asked.

Black Hawk raised a brow, then a look of amusement crossed his face. “Actually, I have. Nobody‘s so much as come near her.”

Michael gave a pleased nod and took a deep breath. “My sister’s headed...” he began, but he was cut off.

“I will make sure she gets there,” Black Hawk said in a business-like tone as he glanced in the direction Hannah and her children had gone. They had disappeared from sight. “I followed her into town this morning...I will follow her back home.”

Michael could only nod.

**~oOo~**

Hannah had been riding casually, thinking about the day, and how it had ended. She was still angry about being restricted from dining at the restaurant, but the ride was calming and her mind wandered as she rode.

As they approached the entrance to the Circle C, she glanced up at the sign that identified her father’s property and smiled absently. Aside from the last seven years, she had spent her entire life on this very land. I _have_ had a good life here, she thought, as she looked at the trees and the leaves that fluttered in the breeze. Smiling again, she closed her eyes and turned her face toward the warming sun, letting Whirlwind carry her.

“Nahko’e,”[1] Little Porcupine said with a smile after watching his mother for a few moments. But when Hannah didn’t respond to her son, he nudged his horse closer to hers. ” _Nahko’e_?” he repeated as he reached out and tugged on the sleeve of her dress.

Hannah opened her eyes and smiled at the boy. “Sorry, Nae’ha.[2] I was just enjoying Father Sun’s warmth,” she said as her eyes went to her daughter. Little Snowbird’s tiny arms were wrapped around her brother’s waist, holding on loosely as they rode.

He nodded and smiled. He had stripped off the shirt he had worn into town and was riding in leggings and breechclout only, so that he too could enjoy the afternoon heat. “What will we do today, Nahko’e?” he asked.

“Hmm...what would you _like_ to do?”

He grinned. “I would like to go swimming.”

“Then that is what we will do,” Hannah said. “After you take care of our horses and I gather wood.”

He nodded and Little Snowbird clapped her hands happily.

**~oOo~**

“I am finished, Nahko’e,” Little Porcupine called out.

Hannah stepped from their lodge and smiled at her son. “So am I, Nae’ha. Are you ready to swim?” He nodded. “Well then, let’s go.” Little Snowbird clapped her hands again and they started for the stream.

**~oOo~**

“Aren’t you coming in, Nahko’e?” Little Porcupine yelled once he had submerged himself. When they had first arrived at the house of his white grandparents, he hadn’t been used to swimming with his mother; that was something that wasn’t usually done when they lived with the People, because boys almost always swam with the men. But, ever since Many Horses left with the other men, his mother had insisted that, for the most part, he not swim alone, so he hadn’t had a choice. And now, he found that he didn’t mind so much. She was more playful than the men usually were.

“Yes, Nae’ha,” she replied. “Just let me take this off.” She pulled at the feathers in her hair, not wanting to get them wet.

**~oOo~**

Black Hawk had gone back to the place where he had been camping and hobbled his horse so that the animal would not wander off. Then he sneaked over to the stream to guard his charge. He arrived just as Little Porcupine was jumping into the water and Hannah was helping Little Snowbird out of her dress.

_Aren’t you coming in, Nahko’e_ ,” he heard the little boy ask. _“_ _Yes, Nae’ha_ ,” came Hannah’s words.

Black Hawk watched as she reverently removed her eagle feathers and set them on a large rock by the stream. Then, as she reached for the ties that held her dress in place, he gulped; for a moment he could only stare at her. He knew he should look away, but he could not. Only when the binding ties that held her dress in place had been released and her dress was slipping over her shoulders and down her frame, did he finally look away. He looked back when he heard her splashing around with her children, but a knot of desire stirred his stomach, causing the flesh that made him a man to harden and making him wish he had not taken this job from her brother.

For a long time, he watched her swimming with her children. She had dunked herself under, wetting herself completely and thoroughly whetting his appetite. He could only stare at her deeply tanned skin and how the water glistened off of it as she swam around. He could see the strength in her lean body, a strength that many women did not possess, and he felt a desperate need to touch her. He wished he could run his hands over her. Unconsciously, he found himself creeping forward, so that he could see her better. But then he stopped suddenly, frowning when he knelt on a sharp rock. Swearing silently, he tried to put his mind back on task, but discovered he still could not concentrate. Instead, he found himself admiring her shoulder-length blonde hair that was now smoothed back off her forehead, exposing the scar of her recent near-scalping at her hairline. _She is so beautiful_ , he mused, his mind no longer anywhere near where it was supposed to be.

**~oOo~**

Hannah glanced up at the sun that filtered down through the trees surrounding the stream. She figured her family would return before long and didn’t want to be caught in the water, and naked, though she was not usually concerned about being unclothed.

“I think it is time to head back to our lodge,” Hannah said, rising and brushing the water from her body. For a moment, she glanced into the brush, thinking she had heard something, but then, seeing nothing, she pulled her dress back on and began gathering her belongings.

“What did you think of church today?” she asked her children as they walked back.

Little Porcupine’s nose wrinkled. “Why did we go there?”

Hannah sighed. “My father wanted us to go. It is where the ve’ho’e[3] worships the Great Spirit. They call him God. Remember?”

Little Porcupine frowned, then nodded. “Do they not worship anywhere else?” he asked, trying to remember what his mother had told him in the past.

“Sometimes... _many times_ ,” Hannah answered. “But one day a week, on Sundays, they go to church to worship. Do you remember the days of the week?”

“To-day iz Sun-day,” Little Porcupine said haltingly in English.

Hannah smiled. “And tomorrow is...?”

“Mon-day?”

Hannah nodded. “And what day is next?”

Little Porcupine frowned, but Little Snowbird started jumping up and down.

“Tooz-day, Wens-day...Terz-day....”

“Th-Thursday,” Hannah enunciated.

“Th-Thers-day,” Little Snowbird repeated.

“And?”

“Fri-day...Sat-er-day.”

“And then Sun-day again,” Little Porcupine said with a triumphant smile. He liked Sunday the best. It was the only day his mother did not work.

“I want to wear a pretty dress like Ka-tie, next time,” Little Snowbird said.

Hannah smiled. “Did you like Katie’s dress?”

Little Snowbird nodded. “It was a pretty color.”

“I will ask eškeme,[4] for next time.” Little Snowbird smiled happily.

**~oOo~**

Hannah and her children arrived back at the house just in time to see her family coming under the Circle C sign. Her father pulled the wagon in and stopped in front of the house, then jumped down to help everyone unload. Hannah hurried out to help him, lifting Katie down next to Little Snowbird who stood waiting with a smile. She watched her sister run off with her daughter, then glanced at her father. He was frowning, but tried to hide it when he felt her eyes upon him.

“I will take it, Pa,” she offered as he started to turn away.

“I’ll go with you,” he said, giving her a hand up, then climbing up beside her. They didn’t speak as they rode, but it was not an uncomfortable silence. Jon pulled the wagon through the barn, parking it in the back where he usually kept it, then jumped down to begin unhitching the team. Hannah followed his lead. It had been many years, but she knew the routine well.

“Your mother brought food home for you,” he commented as they walked back through the barn.

Hannah glanced at her father. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank _me_ ,” he said tersely. “Thank your mother!”

She nodded. “I will.”

They walked silently for a moment, then he spoke again. “So...what did you do this afternoon?”

Hannah glanced at her father sideways and frowned. She was confused by his changing tones. One moment he was nasty and mean, the next he was asking questions as if he cared. “We went swimming in the stream.”

He raised an eyebrow. “The stream’s pretty rough this time of year, Hannah.”

“I know, Pa,” she said with further confusion. Was that concern she heard in his voice? “My children do know how to swim.”

“Even the girl?“

She nodded. “Of course. I would not teach one and not the other.”

He grunted, then turned and looked at her. She looked good, much better than she had when she’d arrived. In the two weeks she’d been home, her bruises had faded and her cuts had healed, as far as he knew. Perhaps she was scarred here and there; he’d been told that she’d taken an arrow and had almost been scalped, but she seemed none the worse for the wear. He had to admit that she looked nearly the same as he remembered her, a little older and not as bone thin as a young girl could be, but good all the same. That was his girl, tough as any son could be. He almost smiled.

“Your mother tells me you’re riding into town on Wednesday to have lunch with Miss Kelly.”

Hannah nodded. “If that is all right.”

He shrugged as if he didn’t care, then he asked, “Do you suppose you’re up to riding out with Hunter tomorrow?”

Hannah frowned again. “Is something the matter with the south pasture, Pa?” she asked, knowing that was her brother’s usual place of work.

        He shook his head. “Nope. Actually, I’m sending him east, to look over the newest piece of land I’ve acquired...to see just where the fencing should be put up. I can’t afford to lose one of my men for the day.”

“I didn’t know you bought the land east of the stream.”

“I’ve owned _that_ land for years, Hannah, but you wouldn’t know that, would you?” he said angrily. For a moment, she only stared at him. The nasty man seemed to be back and she didn’t know what to say to him. She knew that no answer would satisfy so she kept her mouth shut. But, as quickly as it had come, she saw the tension smooth away as he took a deep breath.

“Do you remember the hills that rise out that way?” he asked her. She nodded. “Well, I’ve purchased the land that extends over the first rise and we need to get some kind of fencing up. I’d also like a line shack built out that way somewhere...maybe you could look things over and decide where it would best be placed.”

Hannah nodded. She was already thinking about that particular piece of land; she had been there many, many times. “That sounds doable. How much cattle do you run these days?” she asked curiously. She had always loved helping her father run his ranch.

“Nearly a thousand more than we used to. And it’s getting pretty hard to work,” he said, removing his hat and running a hand through his graying blond hair. “I’ve just hired several more hands...but I’m not so sure about them yet. They’re a little rough around the edges.”

Hannah nodded again, then frowned. “Pa?”

“What?”

“I was just wondering...”

“ _What_?”

She thought he sounded irritated. “Why haven’t I _seen_ any of the hands since I got back? Is Hank still working here?”

“Not now, Hannah, not now,” was his only reply. She watched as he walked off, then she quickened her step and went after him.

“Pa?” she called. “Please, if I’m going to be here, I have a right to know what’s going on?”

He stopped abruptly. “Do you?” he spat. “I mean, _really_ Hannah, should you have _any_ rights, after the way you abandoned us?”

She bit her lip. Was that pain she heard in his voice? “I would have stayed... _we_ would have stayed, but you wouldn’t listen.” She had tears in her eyes.

“I told you that I wouldn’t have an _Injun_ with my daughter,” he said through gritted teeth.

“So...you hated him, for something he could do nothing about, more than you loved me? Is that it?” She fought hard to control the tears that threatened.

He shook his head. “I didn’t say that, Hannah!”

“I loved him, Pa,” she persisted.

“Well, _we_ didn’t! And there are consequences for your actions. Do you _know_ how many people have lost loved ones to those savages?”

He waited, but she said nothing.

“Well do you?” he demanded.

She nodded, but she bristled at his use of the word _savages_. She had seen far more savage behavior from her own kind.

Jon watched her; he was not blind to his daughter’s ire. He could see anger flash through her eyes, though she made an attempt to hide it. He knew just how she felt; sometimes _she_ infuriated him just the same. But today, he didn’t feel like another argument.

“Yes, Hank is still with us,” he snapped before she could let loose. “But I’ve ordered the men to keep their distance...for now,” he added when she started to protest. “Some of them hate what you done...and I can’t afford to lose them, so this is how it’s gonna be!” He didn’t add that he’d already lost some of his men because of her; he’d had to fire three of them the day after she arrived, and then two more shortly afterward because they couldn’t seem to stop mouthing off.

She frowned. He couldn’t afford to lose _them_ , she repeated in her mind. Why was her happiness so hard for her father to bear? she wondered.

“So will you do it?” he demanded.

“Of course. You know that I will.”

“I know nothing of the kind,” he snapped in frustration, then walked away again. This time she didn’t follow.

**~oOo~**

“Sit down Kyle!” Hank commanded as he dealt out another hand of poker to the guys. “Staring down at her ain’t gonna make her disappear.”

Initially, Hank had been disgusted to learn about the boss’s daughter’s return, and about her children. But as he had worked closely with his old friend, and he listened to him rant and rave about the things the girl had said and done, he couldn’t help but enjoy the tailspin it was putting his friend into. The girl had always had spunk, he thought, remembering the hardworking teenager she had once been. It was hard to dislike someone he had always liked so much. But it was also hard to deal with the youthful prejudice of the cowhands.

“I just can’t believe he’s letting his damned white squaw daughter take over the eastern pasture,” the younger man said. He had hardly been able to contain himself when the boss had told everyone that day what he planned to do and now he wasn’t holding anything in. In frustration, he pounded his fist on the sill of the window. “It just ain’t right!”

“Why? Because _you_ wanted to do that job?” Hank asked. Several of the other men laughed.

“Damn straight! I’m tired of chasin’ cattle all the time. Maybe I’d like a day of relaxation.”

“Then maybe you ought to find another line of work, boy,” one of the other hands quipped. “Because chasin’ cattle is what we ranch hands do.” Everyone laughed again.

Kyle glared at all of them, then pushed away from the window and grabbed the man by his collar. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me boy?” he hollered.

“I suppose you’ll have to tell me again,” the other man said as he disentangled himself from Kyle’s grip and shoved him up against the wall. “Cuz I don’t have such good hearin’, _boy_.”

Hank looked from one man to the other, then set his cards down. “Hey! Settle the hell down,” he said, standing to break up a potentially bad scene. “Let’s not get so worked up over what the boss decides to do with his daughter. It’s none of our business. After all, this _is_ his land and she _is_ his daughter. I’m sure the boss made the right choice. Hannah always did know how to handle things. I think you’d be surprised. And she’s a good girl...she’ll do as good a job as any.”

Kyle scowled. “Ya, I’ll bet she is,” he said sarcastically as he stomped out of the room. “I’m goin’ ta bed!”

“You do that,” Hank called after him.

 

[1]. Nahko’e (Náhko’e) - Mother

[2]. Nae’ha - Son

[3]. ve’ho’e - white man

[4]. eškeme (éškeme) – your grandmother (can also mean your mother-in-law)


	18. Chapter 18

** CHAPTER EIGHTEEN **

Hannah knew she was going to enjoy her day immensely. She’d always loved riding over and working on her father’s land; that was one thing she had missed while being away. But this was going to be extra special because she was going to be able to get to know Hunter better. He had been just a boy of eight when she left and now he was nearly a man. The thought made her smile as she got up early to do her morning chores of gathering wood and collecting water.

“Little Snowbird, you can help me by collecting the eggs, so I can help nahtatanneme.”[1] Little Snowbird nodded and tied on the apron her grandmother had given to her, then waited while her mother filled her pockets with chicken feed. Hannah watched her little girl happily spread seed to trick the chickens out of their nests, then pluck the eggs away without getting pecked. She smiled. “What a good little farm girl you are.”

Little Snowbird grinned, then looked up at her mother. “Will you be gone long today, Nahko’e?”[2]

Hannah nodded. “All day. Nahtataneme and I won’t be back until evening, I think. Will you be all right?”

Little Snowbird nodded. “I like staying with Ke’eehe.[3] She is very kind.”

Hannah smiled. “Yes, she is.”

“I will have fun with Katie too...but Robbie isn’t happy that you’re taking Little Porcupine with you.”

“No, I don’t suppose that he is, but we can’t take Robbie; he can’t ride like Little Porcupine can.” Hannah paused when she saw her mother coming out to get her daughter. “You will be good, right?” Little Snowbird nodded. “Try to stay out of my father’s hair when he comes home for lunch.” She lowered her voice and, grinning, said, “Because he’s a mean, mean man.” Little Snowbird giggled, then looked up at her grandmother.

“Are you sure you won’t leave Little Porcupine here with me?” Mary asked. “Robbie’s terribly disappointed that he’s not staying...and...don’t you think he’s a little young to be out riding all day?”

Hannah smiled indulgently at her mother. “I am sorry Robbie’s disappointed, Ma, but Little Porcupine _wants_ to come with us. As far as being too young...well, he used to ride out with his father all the time. A day on his horse’s back is nothing new to him.”

Mary frowned, but took a deep breath; she knew when not to argue with her daughter. “Very well. Here is your lunch,” she said, handing her daughter enough food to feed an army. “Be safe.”

“Thank you, Ma. We will.”

**~oOo~**

Hannah and Little Porcupine helped Hunter through his chores, then watched as he saddled his horse so that they could ride out. When he finished, they mounted, waved goodbye, then headed east and across the stream. It was much deeper at its center than Hannah remembered it to be, but they gained the other side without incident, except for wet feet and calves, and moved on. Her son was excited about the excursion with his mother and uncle, and she was excited for him; the day would be a new adventure, one similar to what he would have experienced if they’d stayed with the People, and yet not.

**~oOo~**

“What do you think?” Hunter asked as he came to a stop upon the eastern most rise of Cooke property. It was midday and they had reached their destination.

Hannah glanced down the hill at her son, sitting bareback on his Indian pony, his long dark hair blowing freely in the prairie breeze, whipping over his small bare chest, then she nudged Whirlwind closer to her brother. Though in many ways Hunter was quite different from her small son, blond, light-eyed and large for his fifteen years, the resemblance between the two was uncanny. Both had blue eyes that were amazingly similar in shape, if not in shade, and both wore their hair long, though Hunter’s was tucked behind his ears and under his hat. It was true that her son’s copper-tinged coloring set him apart, but Hunter was so darkly tanned from long days riding and working outside that Hannah didn’t think anyone could deny that they were related. But that wasn’t where the similarities ended. Hannah had been watching them all morning, the way their bodies moved, the way they rode, the tilt of their heads—even the way their jaws worked when they spoke. It made her smile to see a connection she hadn’t known was there.

Hannah scanned the area around them and then smiled at Hunter. “This is beautiful. It will be perfect!”

“There is a stream that branches off just north of our pond and runs east, then bends south and goes through those trees.” He pointed at the treeline, north and just east of their position. “I don’t know where it goes from there, but if we put a lineshack somewhere near it, then there’ll always be plenty of water.”

Hannah nodded. “Good call,” she said.

“ _And_ ,” he went on, “no one has purchased any of the land on the east side of our property, so we don’t have any neighbors yet.”

“Hmm...that could be good _and_ bad.”

Hunter frowned. “How so?”

“Well, having no neighbors means having nobody to argue with over boundaries, and no one to complain when fences are down and our stock crosses over to graze. And also nobody to fight with over water usage; like damming up the river. That’s the good part. But it’s bad too, because neighbors can be protection against rustlers.” _And Indians_ , she thought silently, though she didn’t say it. With white society encroaching on those who’d ruled the land for generations, the Indians were being forced to come out and take back what rightfully belonged to them. And sometimes that caused troubles; rustling only being the tip of it. “Have you had any trouble with rustlers?”

Hunter nodded. “It happens sometimes, but not often. Pa doesn’t seem too worried about it.”

Hannah shrugged. “I’m sure that if Pa’s not worried, then there’s nothing to worry about.” She smiled. “Now...shall we go on back down and eat?” Hunter nodded and smiled. He was hungry and happy, and pleased that she had agreed about the spot he had chosen. He figured their father would give her the final say about the fences, so her approval meant a lot to him. Even though the man hadn’t been very nice to his daughter since she’d returned, it was obvious he valued her opinion.

“Race ya,” he shouted, giving his mount a kick and then taking off quickly. Hannah grinned and waited a few moments before digging her heels into Whirlwind’s sides and leaning over the mare’s neck. It did not take her long to catch up to her brother’s horse, where she rode at his side for a short time before speeding on ahead. When she slowed just before the stream, she looked back over her shoulder to see Little Porcupine’s horse running hard to keep pace and Hunter fighting hard to stay in front of him. She grinned as she lifted her leg and slid off her horse. She landed lightly and waited for them to reach her. She did not have very long to wait. Both came thundering up and halted suddenly. Hunter was grinning wildly and Little Porcupine was laughing so hard that he tumbled from his horse and rolled in the grass. Hunter let out a gasp, but Hannah seemed unaffected by her son’s fall.

“Is he all right?” Hunter asked worriedly.

Hannah grinned up at her brother. “He looks fine to me.” Then she glanced down at her son and asked, “What is so funny, Nae’ha?”[4] Little Porcupine explained, through gasps and Hannah giggled and looked at a confused Hunter.

“My son says that you should not have challenged the woman who rides Whirlwind; that we are unbeatable in any fair race...and even those that are _not_ so fair.”

Hunter frowned. “You cheater!” he exclaimed with a grin. “You didn’t tell me you had a race horse.”

“It is not just the horse, I am an accomplished rider...though you did not give me a chance to tell you either of those things.”

“Fair enough.” He jumped down and hauled his giggling nephew to his shoulders, then followed Hannah into the shade of a tree.

**~oOo~**

Black Hawk had been hard pressed to keep himself hidden during the ride out, but it was easier once they’d stopped to eat. He’d watched them ride up the hill, then race back down, and he could not help the smile that creased his lips when he saw them laughing and playing. It was good to see people having a good time. He just wished he was close enough to hear what they said, and he wished he could have times like this with his own family. Sighing at the impossibility of it, he wound his way into the trees so that they would not see his approach.

**~oOo~**

“So, maybe we could have a rematch?” Hunter asked hopefully as they slowly rode west and back home. Hannah smiled, then looked at her son when he spoke.

“You not right in head,” Little Porcupine exclaimed exuberantly and laughed, making the sign for crazy white man as he spoke. “No one beat nahko’eehe.”[5]

Hannah giggled.

“No one?” Hunter asked, his brows raised.

The boy shook his head. “Not even neho’eehe.”[6]

Hunter looked to Hannah for help and was stunned to see tears in her eyes.

“His father. Not even _his father_ ,” she choked out, then angrily swiped at her unwanted tears. They rode in silence for several minutes before anyone spoke again. And it was Hunter that finally broke it.

“I saw him, Hannah,” he admitted. Hannah looked up expectantly. “Every year when he came with his horses...I saw him. At first...I was terrified, thinking he’d kill Pa, or take him away like he took you. But after that first time...after Pa shouted at him to leave and he did, I wasn’t so scared anymore. And then, when he came the next year and the same thing happened, I stopped believing the Indians were as bad as everyone says. I figured that Pa’d be dead if they were...that we all would.”

Hannah had to blink back her tears. She wanted to ask about her husband’s horses, or rather, her father’s—had he sold them, released them—had them slaughtered? She didn’t know. She had never understood their disappearance, or the days of anger that followed her husband’s return from his failed trips. She wished that he had told her what he was doing; she would have told him not to bother—not that he would have listened to her; her husband was as stubborn as she. But at least she would have known what was happening to them—at least she wouldn’t have been so confused. Sighing, she decided she wasn’t ready to hear about the horses just yet. Maybe some other time, she told herself.

“Thank you, Hunter,” she said. “I wish that my husband could have met you. I am sure that he would have liked you very much.”

“You think?”

She nodded. “I know.”

He grinned.

“But don’t think that just because my husband didn’t kill Pa that all Indians are nice...because they’re not. Just like white men aren’t all nice.”

Hunter’s grin faded, but he nodded his understanding.

**~oOo~**

It was evening when they finally reined their horses into the barn. They were sweaty and tired, but it had been a successful ride. Both knew their father would be pleased.

Hannah offered to help Hunter through his chores, but he waved her off. “Nah...you go wash up for supper,” he said cheerfully; he was thrilled to have had her company all day. She nodded and headed through the barn to go to her tepee.

As she walked, she thought about her day. It had been as exciting as she remembered it to be, and she loved getting to know her brother, who was now mostly grown. He was smart and fun, and she missed all the years she could have had with him—not that she’d give up the years she’d had with the People.

 

“Good evening, Miss Hannah.”

Hannah spun around. “Well hello yourself, Hank,” Hannah replied as soon as she recognized her father’s foreman standing in the doorway that led up to the hand’s quarters. It only took her moments to cross the space to him and throw her arms about him. He had always been like an uncle to her.

“It’s good to see you, girl!” He swung her around, then glanced behind her and frowned. Kyle had followed him downstairs despite his explicit instructions to stay out of sight. Hannah noticed his distraction immediately.

“Miss Hannah...this is Kyle Matthews. He’s one of your father’s new hands,” he said guardedly.

Hannah read the foreman’s upset, but smiled anyway. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Matthews.”

For a moment, obvious disgust rushed through the young man, then he pushed it away and tipped his hat. “Ma’am.” He glanced at Hank’s angry face, then spoke to the man. “I just came down to turn out my horse,” he explained.

“Well then get to it, boy!” Hank snapped with a glare that surprised Hannah.

Kyle looked at the older man and gnashed his teeth angrily, then glanced at Hannah and nodded his head. “Nice meetin’ ya, Ma’am.”

Hannah nodded her head, then watched him walk off before turning toward Hank. “You were pretty hard on him, don‘t ya think?”

Hank shrugged.

“I suppose that has something to do with my Pa?”

Hank sighed heavily, then nodded. “He doesn’t want no trouble, Miss Hannah. That’s all.”

“If you say so,” she said with a shrug. “And what’s with this _Miss Hannah_ business? You never used to call me that.”

Hank shrugged. “You was a girl then, missy. Things change.”

Hannah shook her head. “Hmm...and people too, I guess.”

“Nah...not this one,” he said to her. “You know me.” She nodded and smiled at her father’s foreman. “Well, I need to get after that one,” Hank went on, poking a thumb in the direction Kyle had gone. “But it was good seein’ ya, Hannah Girl.”

Hannah smiled at his use of her old name. “Good night, Hank.” She watched him go, then walked out of the barn.

[1]. nahtataneme (nâhtataneme) – my brother

[2]. Nahko’e (Náhko’e) - Mother

[3]. Ke’eehe (Ke’éehe) – Grandma (babytalk)

[4]. Nae’ha - Son

[5]. nahko’eehe (náhko’éehe) – my mother

[6]. neho’eehe (ného’éehe) – my father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...so I can see that at least ONE person has found this story. Before today there were sixteen chapters and sixteen hits. Could be one person who's enjoying this...which is fine. Or, maybe it's several people who've read a bit, then bowed out, because they've become bored or something...maybe this just not their cup of tea. Also fine! Or perhaps I've had sixteen different people who have ventured in and read a chapther and HATED it and took off. Lol. So...could SOMEONE post a teeny weeny comment, PLEASE...so I know if I have one happy reader...or a few displeased haters. :p


	19. Chapter 19

** CHAPTER NINETEEN **

Black Hawk had just flopped down on the couch in his father’s house and sighed heavily. It was Wednesday and he’d seen Hannah safely to Kelly’s Mercantile—without her knowledge, of course—and he figured he had at least an hour, if not two, before she’d be heading out again.

“What is it, son?” his father asked from the doorway to the kitchen. Dr. Walker had been watching his son closely and could not help but notice how distracted he was, and how absent he had been over the past few days.

Black Hawk groaned and ran his hands through his thick black hair. “You don’t want to know.” He had been expecting his father to question his behavior and hadn’t come up with a suitable answer as of yet.

“You’re not in some kind of trouble, are you?”

“That all depends on how you define trouble.”

Daniel Walker rubbed his clean-shaven jaw as he dropped into the nearest chair. “Tell me then...is it a woman?” he asked with a knowing smile. The older man was still rather attractive and wise in the ways of women—and young men. And he’d been wondering when his son would finally start thinking about women. He was long overdue.

Black Hawk groaned again, but opened his eyes and looked at his father, then nodded. “How did you know?”

The older man grinned delightedly. “Because only a woman can make a man feel so forlorn. _Only_ a woman can tie a man in knots.” He smiled. “Your mother was very good at such things; always kept me on edge.” He paused then and eyed his son critically. “How worried should I be?” he finally asked.

Black Hawk’s frown only deepened. “I’d say... _very_.” He buried his head in his hands.

“That bad, huh?” Black Hawk nodded. “Who is she?”

The young man stared at his father for a few moments, contemplating whether he should even say, then sat up and ran a hand through his hair again. “Hannah Cooke,” he choked out.

Daniel’s brows raised in surprise and he shook his head. “Do you think that’s wise, son? I mean...in some ways she’d be perfect for you,” he said, thinking about the rumors he’d heard about the gal, though he’d never met her personally. An _Injun-lover_. A _white squaw_. The mother of two _breeds_. He liked her already. “But...she’s a Cooke.” He finished as if that should explain everything.

“I know, Neho’e,[1] I know,” Black Hawk groaned. “ _God_! do I know that.” He ran a hand through his thick black hair yet again, wanting to claw it out strand by strand. “But it’s more complicated than that,” he said, then proceeded to tell his father about Many Horses’ concerns, about Hannah’s refusal of protection, and finally about the offer the sheriff had made. “I could not say no.”

“Couldn’t? Or didn’t _want_ to?” his father asked.

Black Hawk stared at his father for a moment. “I guess it was both.”

“So then, she doesn’t know that you’re following her...or that....” He didn’t need to finish, the expression on his son’s face told him that Miss Cooke had _no idea_ his son had developed an affection for her, though he didn’t even know her...not _really_.

**~oOo~**

“Make yourself comfortable, dear,” Mrs. Kelly said as she moved to go fetch her daughter.

Hannah sat in a chair in the main living space of the Kelly family, sipping the glass of lemonade she had been given and listening to the clock tick. The sound of the clock reverberated through the room so loudly that Hannah could hardly think. Looking around, she noted that not much had changed since the last time she had been in her friend’s home.

Setting her glass down on the coffee table, Hannah stood and crossed the room to look at the arrangement of photographs that hung on the opposite wall. She smiled at the Kelly family photos; she had seen them all many times before. There were some of Abby’s grandparents, on both sides, as well as aunts and uncles and cousins, and even one of Abby and Hannah as young girls. Hannah smiled, remembering the crazy old photographer who had come through town that year, selling his talent and capturing their image. And she remembered how her cheeks had ached from holding a smile on her face for so long and how Mrs. Kelly had insisted upon purchasing a second one for her as well, saying that no one ever smiled in photos like _her girls_ did. Hannah smiled again, warmed by her memories. She had always loved her friend’s family and was happy to be there again, visiting like she always used to. And she wondered if the photograph was still in the upper drawer of the chest in her bedroom at the ranch. She would have to send her sister to check, and to get it for her if it was.

Sighing, and wondering what was taking her friend so long, Hannah moved to sit down again. But just as she turned, something caught her eye; one of the frames on the wall was slightly askew. Reaching out, she righted it, then frowned when something slipped out and fell to the floor. Kneeling, Hannah picked it up and stared; it was a wedding day photograph of Abby and a man—her good-for-nothing husband, Hannah realized as she stared at the man who had hurt her friend so badly. Tears welled in her eyes. Just the thought of the creep that had married her friend and then run off with some saloon tart made her heart break. How could someone be so heartless? she wondered sadly.

“It’s awful, isn’t it?”

Hannah spun around to see Mr. Kelly standing there watching her. She nodded, then glanced at the photo again. After staring at it for another moment, she held it out for the man to take.

“I-I am s-sorry, Mr. Kelly,” she stammered. “I did not mean to be snooping. I was looking at the photographs and it fell on the floor.”

Mr. Kelly stared at the photo. “You don’t know the half of it,” he said, more to himself than to his daughter’s friend. He sighed, reached for the frame where the photo had been and shoved it back inside, then gave his daughter’s oldest friend a searching look. Hannah waited patiently, almost holding her breath. It was as if he wanted to tell her something. She continued to wait, but soon realized that he must have changed his mind. Sighing again, he placed the frame back on its nail and turned away from her.

“That bastard never deserved her!” he said through gritted teeth. Then, as he left the room, he said, “And if I ever see him again, I’ll kill him!”

Hannah stared after him, then looked toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms. It seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time for her friend to come out and Hannah worried that she wouldn’t make it after all. She was debating whether she should sit back down or refill her glass when Mrs. Kelly reappeared. Hannah watched as the woman closed her daughter’s bedroom door, then walked down the hallway toward her.

“I’m sorry, Hannah,” she said, twisting her hands as she walked, “But Abigail’s not feeling very well today.”

Hannah frowned. “Oh. Is she ill?”

Mrs. Kelly’s eyes filled with tears and she shook her head. “Not physically.” Hannah could see that her lips were trembling. “She’s just this way sometimes.”

_Sometimes_? Hannah looked dubious. “Have you taken her to see the doctor?” she asked boldly.

Mrs. Kelly nodded. “He’s not been too helpful...says that Abigail has to _want_ to get better before she will. Says he can’t fix a broken heart.”

Hannah frowned. Didn’t she know it? she thought, a ripple of pain undulating through her own broken heart. “Believe me, I understand,” she whispered.

“Yes...I suppose you would, dear,” Mrs. Kelly said sympathetically. “Sometimes I think our Abigail would have been better off if...if....” She couldn’t seem to say what she was thinking, that she wished her daughter’s husband dead, but Hannah understood her meaning perfectly.

“It will get better...she will,” Hannah said, taking Mrs. Kelly’s hands. “And I will come back.”

“Will you?”

Hannah smiled as she walked down the stairs and back into the mercantile. “I promise,” she said. “You could not keep me away.”

Mrs. Kelly smiled, despite her pain and worry. “I feel just terrible that you rode all the way into town for nothing,” she went on.

Hannah shook her head. “Think nothing of it. It’s quite all right. I promised my ma that I’d pick up a few things while I’m here anyway.” She shrugged. “And I’m going to visit Michael as well. He doesn’t get out to the Circle C as often as I’d like to see him.” She patted Mrs. Kelly’s hand. “I think I’ll visit him before shopping.”

Mrs. Kelly smiled. “All right, dear. Then we’ll see you later.” Hannah waved, then left the mercantile.

**~oOo~**

Daniel finished his lunch and sighed. “Well, son, I have some stock at the Turner Ranch to take a look at. Will you be around this evening?” He waited hopefully, but nodded knowingly when Black Hawk shook his head.

Black Hawk watched his father leave, then got up to make his way out, to find a place to wait for Hannah.

**~oOo~**

“Ya here for a cut, _breed_?” A round of laughter sounded as Black Hawk looked up. Several men were standing there watching him, but his angry eyes were on the man who had made the snide remark. It was Nick, the barber, not one of his favorite people. Nick stood there, leaning nonchalantly against the doorjamb, sharpening his shaving knife threateningly, an arrogant look in his eyes as he stared at the young man sitting on the bench outside his shop.

“What do you think, white man? Have I ever come for a haircut?”

“I think you ought to take your half-breed ass off my walk before I throw you off,” the barber snapped.

“Good thing I don’t care _what_ you think,” Black Hawk quipped with a scowl. “Why don’t you go...snip something off.”

Nick’s face turned almost as red as his fiery auburn hair, but noticing one of the sheriff’s deputies walking in their direction, he only grimaced and went back into his shop.

“Black Hawk,” the deputy said as he tipped his hat in greeting and entered the bank.

Black Hawk nodded, but was startled by the gesture. No one had ever acknowledged his presence with friendliness in the past and he was momentarily stunned. The same thing had happened on his way into town; the livery owner’s eldest son had waved as he'd passed by, and then, just after leaving his house, the dress shop owner’s daughter had smiled at him. It felt strange—awkward. And it was confusing to have people suddenly acknowledging him when they never had before. He was still thinking about it when he noticed Hannah coming down the street with her brother and he stared in shock; he had not expected her to be anywhere other than inside the mercantile, with her friend.

He watched as a few people scowled at her attire, but he smiled, proud that she didn’t give up her dress just because it offended the narrow-minded people of Little Creek. What did _they_ know about the clothing of a true woman? Them, dressed in their frilly gowns, strangled by their long sleeves, high necks and corsets. His gaze honed on Hannah, with her exposed ankles and calves; he smiled in response to the woman before him.

“Good afternoon, Black hawk,” Michael said, bringing him out of his reverie. “Have you had lunch?”

Black Hawk glanced around, almost nervously, then focused on the sheriff. “No actually.” He had gone home to eat, but had walked out of there without consuming a thing.

“I was just taking my sister over to Roxy’s for lunch...would you like to join us?”

When Black Hawk raised his brow questioningly, Michael waved off his uncertainty; Black Hawk knew then that there would be no objections to his presence. He nodded his acceptance, wondering what it would be like to be served, just like any other man in town.

**~oOo~**

“Three,” Michael proclaimed. The waitress stared briefly, then turned, leading them to their table.

Hannah walked in front, followed by a stunned Black Hawk, and finally the sheriff that no one wanted to cross.

“What can I get ya?” the woman asked after giving them a few minutes to look over their choices.

“I’ll take the steak,” Michael proclaimed.

“Well darlin’, I didn’t think you’d be havin’ anythin’ else,” the waitress drawled.

“I’ll have the same,” Black Hawk said, never taking his eyes off the menu in his hand.

Hannah looked from Black Hawk to her brother to the woman, and then she smiled. “The same for me,” she said. She watched the waitress walk away, then she grinned at her brother. “I’d say she’s wantin’ more than what ya ordered,darlin’,” she said, trying her best to sound just like the other woman.

Michael blushed furiously. “Shut up!”

Hannah giggled, knowing she’d hit a nerve. She’d always known her brother was no innocent, but _Roxy_? Now _that_ was funny. The woman was nearly twice _Hannah’s_ age.

“So, Black Hawk,” she said, transferring her attention to the other man, “What puts you on Main Street this afternoon?’

“Um...” He quickly glanced at Michael. “I was...waiting for...a haircut,” he said, immediately knowing how ridiculous that sounded.

Hannah narrowed her eyes. What a preposterous lie, she thought, but instead said, “ _Really_...I didn’t think that would be something that interested you. Hmm, shows how much _I_ know. Just goes to show you that knowing a few Cheyenne, doesn’t mean you know them all.”

“I think he meant a trim,” Michael interjected, obviously trying to defend the other man.

“Actually,” Black Hawk started, “It wouldn’t be the first _haircut_ I’ve received.”

“ _Really_?” Hannah said, eyeing his long black locks almost angrily; she hated lies. “Been to a funeral lately?”

“No...not since my mother’s,” Black Hawk answered, then countered with, “But I’d guess differently about you.” He almost winced. He hadn’t meant to bring up the death of her husband, but she’d ticked him off. He watched her grit her teeth and unconsciously bring a nervous hand to the hair that she had sheared off in mourning. He immediately felt that he’d sunk to a low that he hadn’t meant.

Trying to cover her discomfiture, she toyed with the loose strands of her hair, then clasped her hands in her lap to steady their shaking and looked the man directly in the eyes. “You do know your customs, don’t you?”

“I’ve managed to learn a few of them over the years. After all, my mother was Cheyenne.”

Michael looked from his sister to Black Hawk, then back to his sister. They seemed to be angry—about something, but he didn’t know what. He considered asking, but couldn’t bring himself to interrupt; they seemed—involved.

“Ever been with the People after someone has died?” Hannah asked, ignoring her brother’s confused look. Black Hawk shook his head and she smiled grimly, extending an arm for him to see. “It’s a bloody affair...not a pretty sight.”

Black Hawk glanced at her arm, as did Michael. Michael looked appalled, but Black Hawk had seen scars like them a few times before and was less affected. “I can only imagine.”

Michael stared at her wounds. He’d seen them on the day she had suddenly appeared back in town, but he had never asked her about them. Part of him didn’t want to know, though somewhere inside him he felt that he should have asked, if only to show his concern. He wanted to believe that they were injuries she had sustained while fighting the Pawnee warriors, or someone else, and not self-inflicted, but somehow he knew that was not the case. Then he remembered Black Hawk saying something about the wounds being connected to her husband’s death. Finally, he cleared his throat—he had to ask.

“Ah...Hannah,” he began, a frown creasing his forehead. “What _did_ happen to your arms?”

Hannah’s eyes were still on Black Hawk, but her brother’s question brought them to him. Pulling her arm back again, she shrugged. “I did it...after my husband was killed.”

Michael’s face paled. “Good God...whatever for?”

She frowned. The act was hard to explain. She had once considered it barbaric, but time and experience—and loss—had changed her.

“As a sacrifice...to show how much I loved my husband. To show how much his death pained me.” She paused as she remembered how much his death had hurt—how much it _still_ hurt, though it had dulled slightly in the weeks since he‘d died. Tears welled. “And to distract myself from the emotional pain.” She ran a hand over the scars of her left arm and let her tears fall. “Many immolate themselves when loved ones die...to show their grief. It is common. Some even die from their wounds.”

Michael frowned, then glanced at Black Hawk. He did not wish to hurt the man’s feelings in any way, but he didn’t understand his sister’s behavior. “But Hannah...you’re white,” he blurted out, not knowing what to say or how to handle what she had told them.

She sighed and glanced away. “You sound like Pa.”

“I’m sorry...I don’t mean to,” he said, reaching over and taking up her hand. “It’s just...hard to understand what you’ve gone through, Hannah. It’s just so hard.”

“You do not have to understand. Just remember that I was happy there, with my husband and our people. Is that not what is important?”

Studying her face, he finally nodded. “You are right, understanding is not important.” He smiled and released her hand as the waitress set their plates in front of them.

**~oOo~**

As Jon rode in for lunch, he watched his children romping around with his daughter’s children. They were playing some unfamiliar game, one he suspected was of _Indian origin_.

“Hagh! Hagh! Hagh!” the children called out, as they jumped up off the ground and slightly forward, while holding onto the shirt of the child in front of them and smiling broadly.

As Jon watched, the children continued to smile as they danced around, shouting the unfamiliar, nonsense-sounding word over and over. Then, when Little Porcupine erupted into giggles, Jon was shocked to see the other three jump on him roughly and begin striking him with their hands. He rushed forward immediately.

“What the devil is going on here?” he hollered as he hauled his son off his grandson and glared at the two little girls. All four of them stared up at him in fright, two blond, two dark-haired, all with round, fear-filled blue-eyes.

“W-we...were j-just playing...a g-game called...” Katie started.

“...Ma mau’ is kan it’,”[2] Little Snowbird finished for her, somehow understanding that Katie was explaining.

The tall rancher stared at them in confusion. “Playing? It looked like you were beating the hell out of each other.”

“It’s just a game, Papa,” Robbie insisted. “We are not hurting Heskovetseso.”

“ _Heshko…_?”

“Little Porcupine, Poppy,” Katie said with an exasperated tone as she rolled her eyes.

Jon quickly looked around at the children. Though their game was rough-looking, none of them seemed to be hurt in any way—dirty perhaps, but not hurt. He glanced up at the porch, where Mary was standing with a pitcher of lemonade in her hand and staring at him, and he blushed. He suddenly felt rather foolish for interrupting what now appeared to only be a child’s game.

“Well...try not to hurt yourselves!” he said, then he stomped off. He did not see the amazed grin that crossed his wife’s face or hear the children erupt into giggles.

**~oOo~**

“So, obviously Abigail was not up to having lunch this afternoon,” Michael said as he stood and tossed payment for their lunch on the table.

It took a moment for Hannah to focus on her brother’s words, then she shook her head. “No...Mrs. Kelly said that she did not feel well.”

Michael frowned. “That’s too bad.” He paused. “What that man did to her...it is just awful.” Michael was shaking his head sadly. “She was such a happy girl, and now...she’s a completely different woman. I hardly even see her around town.” He sighed. “You should have seen her the day she came back into town on the stage. She looked nearly as bad as you did. It’s such a pity.”

“Well, I will not give up on her,” Hannah said with determination. “Maybe next week will be better.”

Michael nodded and opened the door so that they could leave. “Maybe,” he said hopefully. Then, looking at Black Hawk as they stood just outside the restaurant, he went on. “So, how is business?”

Black Hawk nearly choked. He had not expected a direct reference to the work he was doing for the other man, not in front of Hannah at least. “Business is...fine, I suppose.” He glanced at Hannah, then back at Michael. “I have been... _we_ have been...somewhat busy,” he corrected, to make it sound as if he was referring to his father’s veterinarian clinic.

“Busy is good...makes the days go faster.” Michael smiled. “And how is your father?” he asked.

“He is doing well. He just rode out to the Turner Ranch. Something about seeing to the stock.”

“Speaking of a busy man. I’d be willing to bet that his work is never done,” Michael said.

Black Hawk nodded. “I would not take that bet,” he replied. “With all the ranches out here, I hardly see him.”

“That must be difficult,” Hannah interjected.

Black Hawk glanced down at her and shrugged. “Sometimes it is, but he is always here...if I need him.” She nodded. She was about to ask a question regarding his father’s work when he abruptly faced Michael. “Well, I had better go. I have to send a telegraph for my father,” he informed them stiffly.

“Yes, me too. I also need to leave,” Hannah clarified. She smiled her goodbye at Black Hawk and watched as he walked away, then looked at her brother. “I need to get back to Kelly’s to buy the things Ma asked for. Then I should ride out before it gets too late.”

“Come back to the station with me. I have something for Little Porcupine and Little Snowbird.”

Hannah’s eyes sparkled. “You do? What do you have for them?”

Michael grinned. He loved the way his sister turned into a little girl when someone had a surprise for her. She hadn’t changed there, he thought.

“Hats. I picked up a bonnet at the dress shop for Little Snowbird and I bought a hat for Little Porcupine...he seemed to like Robbie’s so much, I thought the boy should have one of his own.”

Hannah continued to smile. “Well, that’s very nice of you, Michael. I am sure they will be thrilled.” As was she. “But, wouldn’t you rather give them yourself?”

He shrugged. “Well sure, but I don’t know when I’ll get out to the ranch, Hannah.” He shook his head. “Being sheriff doesn’t afford much time for visiting; there’s always something to do.”

She nodded. “I understand. I will bring them. Little Porcupine and Little Snowbird will be thrilled.”

**~oOo~**

Black Hawk walked into the telegraph office and waited while the operator finished business with another customer. The man in front of him was a stranger in Little Creek, but it didn’t stop him from scowling in Black Hawk’s direction when he noticed him standing there waiting. _It is always the same_ , Black Hawk thought angrily. He didn’t know why he was always surprised by the reception he received from people.

“And where can you be reached, Sir, if an answer comes back?” the man behind the counter asked.

“I’ll be at the LeGrande Hotel...only until the stage leaves tomorrow. Can you forward the message on to Denver, if it comes too late?”

“Yeah, but it’ll cost ya.”

The stranger nodded. “I figured it would. I’ll be by tomorrow then. Good day to you, Mr. Jenner.” With one last glance at the Indian, he left the telegraph office.

The telegraph operator watched him go, then looked at Black Hawk. “What can I do for you?”

“I need this sent...for my father.” He was holding up a small piece of paper.

The telegraph operator nodded curtly and took the slip of paper from him. “Medicines?” he questioned. Black Hawk only nodded.

“I’ll send it right away. Should I put it on your father’s account?” Black Hawk nodded again, then tipped his hat and left without a backward glance. Mr. Jenner stood still for a moment and watched the half-breed leave. The young man seemed nice enough, quiet most of the time, staying out of the way because that’s what people expected of him, though sometimes trouble couldn’t be helped for a man with Indian blood living among whites. Mr. Jenner turned back to his work once the younger man passed out of sight.

**~oOo~**

Black Hawk walked slowly down B Street, which was much more of an alley really, with the dazed look of someone in deep thought. His hat was pulled down low and his mind on Hannah, and the lunch he had just shared with her. He had already pushed aside the fact that they had exchanged less than pleasant conversation, and that he had had to share her with her brother. And he had completely forgotten about the telegram he had just sent. That was why he was taken by surprise when something hit him hard in the stomach, and why he could not defend himself when he was shoved hard, then hit again.

“Let that be a lesson to ya, _Breed_!” a male voice growled.

Black Hawk struggled against the two men that held him pinned to a wall. He couldn’t see them because someone had tossed a handful of dirt in his eyes, but he knew the voice. It was the barber, Nick. Black Hawk knew that he shouldn’t have been such a smart mouth when he’d talked to the man earlier, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Maybe that’ll teach ya ta stay where ya belong...” the man said, driving his fist into Black Hawk’s gut. “...off Main Street and away from white folk. And that includes that white squaw too.” Black Hawk heard the man laugh as the other two shoved him. He toppled to the ground and lay still for a moment. Through blurred eyes he saw Nick walk off. Thinking it was over, he groaned and rolled to get up. Just as he started to pull himself up, a booted foot caught him in the stomach, knocking him back to the ground. One, two, three kicks...four, five...

**~oOo~**

Stepping outside of her brother’s office, a hat and bonnet in hand, Hannah squinted into the bright light of the midday sun. Shielding her eyes, she started into the street to head for the mercantile. She was halfway across the dirt road when she noticed the dust stirring toward the other end of B Street, the street that ran perpendicular to Main Street just across from her brother’s office. Frowning, she knew she shouldn’t go anywhere but directly to _Kelly’s_ , but she couldn’t help herself; she finished crossing the town’s main road and crept down the narrow side street to see what was happening down there.

**~oOo~**

Eyes closed, Black Hawk tightened up and waited for the next blow, but it didn’t come. Instead, he heard a scream of pain from one of his attackers and mumbled cursing from the other. Lifting his head, he opened his eyes and tried to clear the dirt out of them by blinking over and over. He couldn’t see very well, and the effort was painful, but slowly the grit cleared enough for him to see the shape of a man standing over him with what looked like an arrow protruding through his hand. The man was only there for a second and then he dashed down the street. Black Hawk groaned and dropped his head back to the ground, glad his attackers had fled.

For a time he just lay there, trying to clear his mind. He was trying to make sense of what had happened, but the beating he had received had addled him. He had been walking from the telegraph office toward Back Street, his mind on Hannah, when he had been jumped. It had been the barber and his friends; he knew it, not that anyone would believe him, or care. The sheriff would—perhaps, but did he dare file a complaint? It would only invite more trouble—trouble his father’s practice didn’t need, though the older man would never complain, not when it came to his son.

Black Hawk frowned, trying to remember what else had happened, and was about to attempt getting up when a shadow crossed over him. With a jerk, he sat up and faced what he thought was a returning attacker. Growling, he grabbed at the person kneeling over him and, in one smooth move, pulled out his knife, rolled the person over and pinned him to the ground, while holding his knife to his attacker’s throat.

“What the...?” he exclaimed, as his eyes focused on the person under him. ” _Ve’otse’e_?”[3] He pulled his knife away from her immediately, but he did not get off of her. “What’s going on here?”

Hannah raised her brow as if to ask the same question. Black Hawk noticed that she didn’t look the least bit frightened, and that her knee had instinctively come up to strike him where it would hurt the most, though she had paused her movement just in time.

“I might ask you the same thing,” was her only reply.

He nodded. She had a point. Slowly, he moved off of her, then held out his hand to help her up. Accepting his assistance, she stood and brushed herself off, then looked up at him.

“You are all right?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He blushed. “I guess my mind was...elsewhere.” He did not want to tell her where; he was having a hard time admitting it to himself. “I did not even see them coming.”

“Who were those men?”

Black Hawk frowned and stared at her for a moment. Of course she didn’t know who they were, he thought. She had been away for so long that many businesses had changed owners, including the proprietor of the barbershop.

“No one!”

“ _No one_?” she repeated, noticing that just drawing air pained him.

“It is nothing. I’m fine,” he insisted.

“Humph!” She folded her arms across her chest and scowled at him. “So...I was thrown in the dirt for nothing?”

He sighed. “I am sorry about that. I thought you were one of them.”

“Them?”

He only shrugged.

“You’re not going to tell me who they are, are you?” He shook his head. Hannah stared up at him and could not help noticing that, despite the dirt on his face, his gray eyes sparkled. “Why not?”

“Why do you want to know?”

She shrugged. “Do you always answer a question with a question?”

“Do you?”

She smiled. “You are crafty...in your attempt to change the subject, but not crafty enough. Why won’t you tell me who those men were?” she asked again. For a few moments he said nothing and she thought he was going to ignore her. The situation seemed vaguely familiar. And then it hit her, her first meeting with Windwalker had been similar, with him ignoring her.

“Because it does not concern you,” he finally said.

His answer frustrated her. “Fine, do not tell me then.” She leaned down to pick up her scattered belongings. “Maybe next time I should just walk away and leave you to your own _concerns_ ,” she snapped.

He frowned and quickly knelt to help her. “I do not mean to insult you,” he said. “I just....” He paused and she looked at him. Picking up her bow, he frowned again, then held it out to her. “Did I imagine...that you shot one of them... _through the hand_?” he asked, suddenly remembering an arrow sticking through one of his attacker’s hands.

She shook her head. “No, you did not imagine it,” she said flatly. “It should be easy to identify a man with a hole in his hand. We should tell Michael.”

“No!” Black Hawk said. “I told you I’m fine. There is no need to involve the law.”

“Why not? Citizens cannot just go around attacking other citizens.”

Black Hawk frowned. “Most don’t consider me a citizen, Hannah.”

“You live here, do you not?”

He nodded. “But that makes no difference to some. I am considered an outsider. You, of all people, should understand this.” He paused. “And why did you intervene...they could have hurt you?”

Hannah eyed the man before her with amusement, then shrugged. “He was about to kick you again. I could not let that happen. He is lucky that I am not a better shot.”

“ _Really_?” Black Hawk grinned. “Looked pretty damned good to me.”

She shrugged again, then smiled back at him. “Yeah, I suppose it was.

 

[1]. Neho’e (Ného’e) - Father

[2]. Ma mau’ is kan it’ (Mĭ mau’ ĭs Kăn ĭi’) – Jumping from side to side (could be called either a dance or a game)

[3]. Ve’otse’e – Warpath Woman


	20. Chapter 20

** CHAPTER TWENTY **

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?” Black Hawk finally asked. They were walking down what most called Center Street, the wide alley that ran between the buildings on Main Street and those on Back Street, toward his father’s clinic; Hannah had insisted on at least seeing him there. She had also offered to wrap his ribs, but he had refused, saying that he could do that himself. He knew that he couldn’t really, that he’d have to wait for his father to do it, but he also couldn’t bear to have her touch him; he knew that would be far more painful than waiting for his father’s return.

“My husband taught me,” she answered plainly.

Black Hawk raised a brow. “You are a fast learner. It takes many years to become so accomplished.”

Hannah shrugged. “I was with the People for many years. I was not yet sixteen when I went to live with them. I am twenty-three now. And I was not always so good,” she said with a shake of her head. “It took much practice.”

He nodded. He knew what it took.

“And I practiced everyday,” she finished.

“And did _your husband_ also teach you how to shoot a gun?” he asked her. He had tried to keep his tone level, but he knew that it hadn’t come out that way. He was jealous of every moment her husband had had with her.

Hannah glanced up at him sharply; what was it that she heard in his voice? she wondered. She shook her head in answer of his question, but spoke as well. “No. My skill with a gun came from Michael. I have been shooting since I was a girl. Michael insisted that I learn, said that if I was going to work the ranch like a man, then I should be able to shoot like one.” She grinned.

Black Hawk grinned back at her. “Michael is a smart man.”

Hannah shrugged. “He was just looking out for me, but yes, he _is_ a smart man.”

“What made you want to learn to use a bow?” he asked her.

Hannah smiled grimly and sighed. “Shortly after I went to live with the People, Custer and his men attacked a camp west of us...on the Washita.” She glanced up at him and saw that he knew of the massacre.

Black Hawk raised a brow at her. “That is very far from here.”

“Yes, it is. We moved often. We had to.” She frowned, then went on. “Later, I went with others to help those that had escaped.” She shook her head. “It was a bloodbath. Mostly women and children were killed.” She had to swallow hard at the memory. “I will never forget what happened that day. Several weeks afterwards I asked my husband to train me. I did not want to be caught incapable of defending myself and others.”

“I am surprised your husband was willing to turn his wife into a warrior.”

Hannah smiled at the memory. “Oh, he was not! He did not do it willingly. It was only after a few small skirmishes and a couple times of me following him when he went off to raid that he finally agreed...though still reluctantly.” She paused. “My husband was not stupid, he did see the value of having more protection for the People, even if he did not like that it was his wife giving the protection.”

Black Hawk nodded. “I suppose they can always use another bow.”

Hannah nodded. “Yes...always. But it helped my cause that I was a better shot with my gun than many of the men.”

“I bet.” Black Hawk smiled. “Has your band moved to a reservation?”

She shook her head. “Mostly no. They hide at the foot of the Rockies...though some have gone.”

They walked in silence for a few moments, neither knowing what else to say, then the man abruptly faced her and, placing his hands on her shoulders, turned her toward him.

“I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable at lunch. It was not my intention,” he said. “I was just...trying to....” He stopped. “I don’t know what I was trying to do,” he ground out in frustration. Then, realizing he was still holding her shoulders, he dropped his hands. “I’m just sorry.”

Hannah stared up at him, trying to figure out what was going on in the man’s head. His moods changed so easily, but he did seem sincere. And there was a nervous wrinkle in his brow, like he was hanging on what she might say to him. Sighing, she shrugged again. “And I was rude...I am sorry for that.”

**~oOo~**

Hannah had said goodbye to him at his father’s office door. He had not invited her in, though she had not tried to hide her curiosity. Instead, he had promised her that he would rest and said goodbye, then opened the door, slipped inside, closing and locking the door it behind him. Hannah stood there staring at the closed door for a few moments, then turned and walked up the street determinedly. Once in the mercantile, she selected the items her mother had requested, then was on her way again.

**~oOo~**

“Hannah!”

Hannah spun around to find her old friend Jesse crossing the street, probably coming from the barber; he looked to have just had a cut and shave. She smiled and greeted him.

“Good afternoon, Jesse. How are you?”

“I’m good. _Real good_ now that I’m talking to you. You?”

“I am well.”

“You look real nice, Hannah.”

She gave a wry smile. “Ahh, thanks.” She knew she was still dirty from her tussle with Black Hawk. “So do you. Were you just at the barber?”

“Ahh yeah, something like that.” He paused. “Doin’ a little shoppin’?” he asked, holding his hands out to take her packages. Accepting his assistance, Hannah released them, then nodded.

“Yes. Ma needed a few things and, since I was going to be in town, she asked me to pick them up for her.” She smiled at him. He had always been nice to her, sweet on her actually, and it appeared he still was. She’d never been interested in him that way, though she’d never had the heart to tell him. He was tall with sandy blond hair and hazel eyes. He was a handsome man, always dressed well and always smiling, but slightly uppity, tending to judge others based on what they had, or didn’t have. That had never been Hannah’s way. She knew that she’d have to be careful.

“How is your mother?”

Hannah smiled. “She is good...happy.”

“I bet, now that you’re home and all.”

She shrugged. “I suppose.”

“So, what brings you in to town today, Hannah?” he asked.

“I was supposed to lunch with Abby.” She shook her head. “But...she was not feeling up to it.”

Jesse shook his head as well and tapped a finger on the side of it. “That one’s not well at all...if you know what I mean.”

Hannah frowned. “It is just awful, what her husband did to her.”

“Well, we don’t really know _what_ he did, do we?” he asked. “All that we really know is that she came running back to Little Creek. If you ask me, she should have stayed in Colorado Springs with her husband, where she belongs.”

Hannah stopped walking and frowned up at the man walking beside her. “How can you say that, Jesse? From what I’ve heard, the man threw her out...he _abandoned_ her. She had no choice, but to come home.”

He sighed. “All I’m saying is that I wonder what she did for her husband to do such a thing. I met Mick. He seemed a decent man.”

Hannah shook her head. “It does not matter _what_ she did, he had no right to treat her so poorly. Abby does not deserve this. You know that. We have known her for years.”

They had started walking again, neither knowing what to say. Hannah wished he’d just give her back her packages and leave her alone, but she didn’t want to ask him to go. He was, after all, one of the only people in town that seemed to want to give her the time of day, and she didn’t feel good about running him off.

 

As they rounded the corner and headed toward the livery, Jesse glanced down at her. She’s still pretty, he thought, even with her short hair and strange new way of dressing. He sure hoped she start dressing normal again though—and took the filthy feathers out of her hair. She looked like a savage, he thought as he glanced down at her bare legs. He _did like_ being able to see her legs though. She has pretty legs, he thought. And the way her dress hugged her hips—he liked that too. He was trying to work up the nerve to ask if he could call on her sometime when she suddenly stopped.

“I do not believe this!”

“What?” He was still staring at her bare legs and hadn’t noticed where her eyes were.

She nodded across the street. “Black Hawk.”

He scowled. He didn’t think the breed should be allowed to just hang around town with no purpose. He had seen him earlier in the day, sitting outside the barbershop, and had watched him walk off with Hannah and the sheriff. It galled him that the red man had insinuated himself into proper company. Now he watched as the other man headed for the livery. “What about him?”

“He promised me that he would rest. He should not be out of bed,” she said with exasperation.

Jesse glanced across the street, then back at Hannah. “So.”

Hannah sighed, then tried to explain. “There was an altercation earlier; he was injured. He should not be out and about.”

Jesse shifted her packages and frowned at her. “Hannah, there are always _altercations_ when Indians think they can live in the white man’s world.” He nodded toward the other man. “ _He_ doesn’t belong here.”

“And what about me, Jesse?” she asked, hands on her hips. “Do I belong here?”

“Of course you do. This is where you grew up. People will forget what you did... _eventually_.”

Hannah’s mouth dropped open. “What if I do not want them to forget?” She shook her head. “I feel no shame about leaving here with the man I loved.”

He scowled at her. “People are never going to understand that, Hannah. They may eventually stop talking about it, but what you did will never be acceptable. It’ll always be something that’s swept under the rug.”

She shook her head again. “Well I refuse to worry about such things,” she said as she took her packages back from him. “And I _refuse_ to waste time on closed-minded people.” She paused. “I’ll have to talk to you later, Jesse,” she said as she stepped into the street. “I need to talk to Black Hawk now.”

And with that she turned and hurried off toward the livery. Jesse watched as she went, his feelings hurt that she’d brushed him off. Couldn’t she see that he was her best bet at finding another husband? Who else would willingly take her on after she’d allowed herself to be ruined?

**~oOo~**

Hannah cleared her throat and waited. Black Hawk turned around slowly, the look of surprise obvious when he saw her standing there, arms full of packages from _Kelly’s_.

“Ahh, hey there, Hannah.”

“I thought you were going to rest.” She tapped her foot impatiently.

“I did...rest, that is.”

She frowned. “For what...thirty minutes?”

He shrugged. “I am done now.”

She sighed. “You did not rest long enough. You could have broken ribs. A broken rib can puncture a lung. You should be lying down...at least until after your father has a look at you.”

He shrugged again. She frowned. “Where are you going anyway?” she asked him.

He frowned, not wanting her to know he was going to follow her out to the Circle C. “Just for a ride.”

“A _ride_? Are you crazy?” She waited. He didn’t answer. She glanced at the horse the livery owner’s son brought out; he was blacker than midnight and the biggest horse Hannah had ever seen in her life.

“The lady’ll need her horse as well, Willy,” Black Hawk said to the young livery man. Willy nodded and left.

“You really should not be riding, Black Hawk,” Hannah lectured as she watched him adjust his horse’s saddle. He didn’t respond to her, but she didn’t miss that his movements were stiff. She watched silently for a moment. When he leaned over to tighten the black’s flank strap and winced, she knew he was in more pain than he let on. She couldn’t take watching any longer. _Stubborn man_ , she cursed silently. Setting her things down, she reached out and placed her hand on his wrist.

“Let me help you,” she said as she gently pushed him out of the way. He gave a mild protest, but then stopped to watch her. After adjusting the strap around his horse’s middle, she moved out from under him and ran a hand down his neck. “He is a beautiful animal.”

Black Hawk nodded. “Yes, he is,” he responded, thinking that _she_ was a beautiful animal. “You’re good.” He tilted his head toward his horse. “He doesn’t let just anyone touch him.”

She smiled. “You should not be out riding,” she repeated.

He shrugged. “I can’t stay inside long....”

Hannah nodded. “I can understand that, but....” They were interrupted when Willy cleared his throat. They both turned to face the young man. Hannah waited while Black Hawk reached into his pocket, then tipped the man. Then they watched as he walked off.

“Where are _you_ going?” he finally asked.

Hannah sighed. “Home.”

“I will take you there.”

She shook her head. “It is not necessary. I know the way.” She began tying her things to Whirlwind.

“It could be dangerous,” he said, holding out the two small hats she had been carrying. She slipped them into her horse’s pannier, tied it closed, then turned back to him.

“It was not so dangerous on the way in. I am not worried.”

“You should not ride alone,” he persisted, knowing full well that she’d made it to town without incident.

She raised a brow, thinking his concerns ridiculous; she often rode alone. What was the big deal? “You should not be riding at all...and thank you, but I do not need protection.”

“It is getting late. I will take you there anyway.” He gritted his teeth as he swung up into his saddle.

She frowned. “See? You should not ride.”

“My ribs are not broken. I would know if they were.” He glanced around. “We should go.”

Hannah continued to frown. She was ready to protest further, but seeing his set jaw she decided against it. “All right, fine,” she sighed. “You can take me part of the way.”

“Fine.” He watched her mount, then clucked; both their horses started forward.

**~oOo~**

They rode the narrow wagon trail in silence for nearly thirty minutes, Hannah observing him unobtrusively as they went and Black Hawk seemingly in his own world. She knew he was in pain and worried his injuries were far more serious than they realized. She wished she had insisted he stay behind. After all, she hardly needed someone taking care of her.

“Stop,” she finally said.

He looked around. “But we are barely past half way.”

How does _he_ know? she wondered, but slipped off Whirlwind’s back and looked up at him. “Get down.”

He frowned at her. “Why?”

“Because you are hurt. I want to look at your injuries.”

“It is almost dark. We should keep going.”

She shook her head. “No.”

His forehead knotted with frustration, he said, “I could take you there by force.”

She let out a laugh. “You could _try_ ,” she challenged him. She knew he was in no condition to force her to do anything. “We will not go another step until I see how badly you are injured.”

“There is not enough light in these trees,” he protested. He did not move to get down.

She glanced around, then nodded. He was right; being under the canopy of trees would make it difficult to see, but there was plenty of sunlight left near the river. “Fine,” she said, seemingly acquiescing to his objection. But then, before he could react, she reached forward and pulled his horse’s reins over its head and turned toward the trees. “Then we will go into the light.” She clucked and Black Hawk watched in shock as his black allowed her to lead them away. He knew that all he had to do was tighten his thighs and his horse would halt, but he allowed himself to be led. And he noticed that her horse followed as well. When they got to the river’s edge, she stopped and handed his reins back to him.

“Now get down...and take off that shirt.”

With a sigh, he dismounted, but he did not look pleased. She turned toward to river, then picked up a rock and skipped it over the water‘s surface.

“Satisfied?” he asked, after tossing his shirt over his horse’s saddle. When she faced him, she gasped. His right side was covered in angry bruises all the way from his chest to the jeans that he wore low on his hips.

“No,” she said coming up and kneeling to examine him. “This is bad.”

“Ow! That hurts!”

“I know...sorry,” she apologized, but continued to prod around. “Nothing seems to be broken.” He grit his teeth to the pain and allowed her to continue, until she reached for the button closure of his jeans.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he asked, taking a step backward.

She frowned up at him. “Examining you,” she replied. “What else would I be doing?”

“Well...nothing down there’s broken either.”

She nodded, stood up and backed away slightly. “Of course n-not,” she stammered. “You should probably take a dip though...the cold water might be good for those bruises. It will definitely help with the swelling.” Her eyes roved over his bare chest, then locked on his gray eyes.

He stared at her for a minute, then nodded and kicked off his shoes. When he reached to unbutton his jeans, she turned toward the horses to give him some privacy, but blushed as she thought about him undressing behind her. She busied herself petting and talking to the horses until she heard him splashing into the river. Only then did she sneak a peek. She turned just in time to see his perfectly sculpted, dark rear end sink into the water. She moved then to a large rock, where she could sit and wait for him to finish.

 

Black Hawk swam around for a while, treading water in the river’s middle for some time, then stroking hard upstream and allowing the current to bring him back down. He did that several times, then headed back to shore where he could sit in a pool and rest. He had to admit the cold water was making his injuries feel better.

“I think this has helped...thank you.” She looked down at him, but only nodded. He wondered what she was thinking. “You coming in?” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

She shook her head. “I bathed this morning.”

He smiled. He knew that she had, but he wasn’t going to tell _her_ that. “If you bathe again this evening, then you can skip bathing tomorrow morning.”

She stared at him for a moment, surprised that she _wanted_ to strip off her clothes and join him. “I bathe every morning.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, pushing off and swimming out again. He was aware that her eyes followed him, though he did not look back. Then, kicking his legs hard, he dunked under, then swam back to the river’s edge.

“I think I’m done.”

Hannah nodded, but didn’t move. Black Hawk waited for a moment, thinking she’d turn away, but when she didn’t, he stood up slowly. He watched her watch him as the water dripped down his naked body. She appraised him openly, eyeing all parts of him. Hoping to distract her, he reached up to wring out his long, wet hair. When it didn’t work, he shifted his eyes to look directly into hers. Though it had been his intent to make her blush, he found himself doing so instead. _Damn_! he cursed silently, fighting the urge to look away. When he finally neared, she tossed him his jeans, then climbed off the rock and went back to the horses, leaving him alone to dress, and to get a hold on himself.

 

It had taken all she had to not look away from him as he stood up and walked toward her, as naked as the day he had been born. It hadn’t shocked her and, although she knew he’d wanted it to, it hadn’t embarrassed her either. She smiled. She had, after all, seen naked men before. She continued to grin. It was _his_ reaction that amused her. Though many would have been unable to see it, she hadn’t missed the reddening of his face, or the sudden awkwardness of his step. She wanted to laugh as she thought about how she had turned the table on him, but stifled it as she continued to think of him...his shoulders and chest, broad and strong-looking...his hips, narrow...his stomach, like her mother’s washboard...his legs, thick...his...his.... Now it was she who was blushing, but she didn’t mind the private heat that flooded her face. She smiled and hummed to herself as she tried to keep herself busy with the horses. But her mind quickly went back to the man, and the tightness of his ass as he’d walked into the river. This time she couldn’t help the slight giggle that came out of her mouth.

“What’s so funny?”

She spun around and bit her lip, forcing a serious look to her face. “I do not know what you mean.” She pulled his shirt from his horse’s saddle and walked toward him. “How much affection do you have for this shirt?” she asked.

He glanced at the cream-colored shirt she held, a frown of confusion on his face. “Huh?”

“This shirt.” She held it up. “How much would it bother you if I tear it up to wrap your ribs? Swimming in the river helped, but they really need support while you ride home.”

“Oh.” He shrugged. “I do not care.”

She nodded. “I could give you another.”

He frowned. “Another what?”

“Another _shirt_.”

“Oh right...that is not necessary. I have many shirts.”

She nodded, then pulled out her knife and began cutting up his shirt, tying the long strips into one long one. It only took a few minutes to have it ready, then she asked him to stand in front of her. As she wound it around him, she realized how very large he was and wished she had more material to work with. She vowed to start carrying extra in the future, just in case. When she finished, she looked it over, then frowned up at him.

“Well, this will have to do...until you get home and your father can redo it,” she said, still frowning. “You _will_ have him rewrap you, right?”

Black Hawk glanced away. “Of course.”

Hannah narrowed her eyes. He didn’t look to be telling the truth. “Black Hawk, I am serious. Promise me you will do this...as soon as possible.” He looked back at her, but didn’t respond. Hannah searched his face. “Please. I will worry if you do not.”

He sighed. “As soon as I see my father, I will ask him,” he promised. She grinned.

**~oOo~**

“I do not want you riding any more than necessary. You should turn back now.” They were back on the wagon trail and he was still insisting on taking her home. Gone was his agreement to only part way.

“But I will worry if I don’t see you all the way home,” he said, throwing her words back at her.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh all right...but just until the house comes into view. I do not want trouble with my father.”

He nodded. “Nor do I,” he agreed.

“All right then,” she said, nodding and moving to her horse. She had just stepped up to Whirlwind’s side when she felt his hands on her waist and, before she could protest, he had lifted her to her mare’s back. She frowned.

“What the hell did you do that for?” she demanded angrily, her blue eyes piercing his gray ones.

“I was helping you,” he replied innocently.

“Well don’t, damn it! You are going to make your injuries worse. Don’t make me sorry I agreed to let you walk me home.” She turned away from him then and started riding away. She didn’t see him smile as he pulled himself onto his mount.

**~oOo~**

Black Hawk raised his hand in farewell when he saw her glance back at him, then he turned and disappeared back into the trees. He had no intention of going back to town, but he had to make it look good. After waiting for what seemed like forever, he circled around and headed in the direction of the small camp he had been staying in. When he got there, he dismounted and hobbled his horse, then set out his bedroll and practically collapsed on it. He was exhausted.

 

Hannah was no less tired; she had had quite a long day as well and still had to make an evening meal for her children, but she, at least, was not bruised and in pain. She smiled as she released Whirlwind into the eastern corral and hummed to herself as she walked back through the barn toward the house.

“It’s pretty late...to be coming in, ain’t it?”

Hannah turned around to see her father hanging up his tack. “I got hung up in town...sorry Pa,” she added.

He shrugged. “Those things happen. Were you able to pick up the things your ma wanted?”

Holding up the packages she was carrying, Hannah nodded. “Everything except her catalog order; it hasn’t arrived yet.”

“How was your lunch with Miss Kelly?” he asked.

Hannah shifted on her feet and frowned, wondering why her father was so full of questions this evening. “Abby was not well enough for a visit. I lunched with Michael instead.”

Jon nodded, then disappeared into his horse’s stall. “How’s your brother?” he called out.

“He was good.”

Her father came back out with his saddle and dropped it over the stall rail. “What’s that song you were singin’?”

Hannah frowned again and almost cringed as she answered him. “It was just a Cheyenne lullaby, Little Snowbird’s favorite.” She held her breath, expecting him to explode—but he only grunted. Hannah stood there for a few more minutes, but when he didn’t say anything else, she decided her father’s interrogation was over and started for the barn door.

“You ridin’ out with Hunter tomorrow?”

“That was the plan...did you still want me to?

“Yep, gotta get them fences up.”

She watched for another moment, then turned and headed for the house. Not seeing anyone in the front, she made her way to the back. That is where she found her mother and the children.

“Nahko’e!”[1] Little Snowbird exclaimed happily when she saw her mother. “You are late coming home.”

“Yes, I am...and I am sorry.” Hannah set down her packages, then lifted her small daughter to her hip and kissed her cheek. “But I bring gifts...from your uncle.”

Little Snowbird grinned. “Really?”

Hannah nodded and put her daughter down, then pulled out the pink bonnet and slipped it on Little Snowbird’s head. “What do you think?”

Little Snowbird waited patiently while her mother tied a bow, then she reached up to touch it and smiled broadly. “Is it pretty?” Hannah nodded and watched her daughter run off to show Katie.

“And he bought this for you, Nae’ha,”[2] she said, settling the cowboy hat on her son’s head and smiling at him. “It is just like Robbie’s, I think.”

Little Porcupine smiled, then took it off and looked it over. “Yes, it is exactly the same. I love it...but....” He frowned.

“But what?” Hannah frowned at the tears she saw forming in her son’s eyes.

“What would nameseme[3] think?” he whispered.

“Ahh...I see your problem. You worry that, because you are Cheyenne, Nightwalker would not approve of this white man’s hat.” He nodded and blinked back his tears.

“And that you will be betraying the People if you wear it.” Little Porcupine nodded again.

Hannah sighed. She hadn’t considered that her son might feel this way. It was one thing to play cowboy, quite another to actually learn to be one, or start dressing like one. “Well, do you want to know what _I_ think?”

Little Porcupine stared up at her, his eyes wide. “Heehe’e.”[4]

“I think that...Nightwalker knows what is in your heart...and that, what you wear does not matter to him. He knows that you are half white, and _that_ does not bother him. He would understand if you wore a hat that was given to you by an uncle.”

“Really?” he asked hopefully.

Hannah grinned. “Really,” she said as she took her son into her arms. He allowed it for a moment, then sat up straight; boys his age didn’t often allow their mothers to coddle them so. “Now, off with you, I need to make you a meal.”

“You do not have to cook this night, Nahko’e,” he said with a smile.

“No?”

He shook his head. “Ke’eehe[5] has already fed us. We had Chik-kenn, ka-oorn, and....” He frowned. “And...poe-tay-toe-ss.” He finished with a huge grin.

Hannah smiled back at him. “You have been practicing your English. That is good.”

 

[1]. Nahko’e (Náhko’e) - Mother

[2]. Nae’ha - Son

[3]. nameseme (namêšéme) – my grandfather or your grandfather

[4]. heehe’e (héehe’e) - yes

[5]. ke’eehe (ke’éehe) - grandma


	21. Chapter 21

** CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE **

Hannah felt a slight pressure on her arm, but she was groggy with sleep and didn’t think it was anything other than one of her dogs. She had worked hard again that day, riding out with Hunter at dawn, this time with three of the hands. They had made good progress in putting up fencing over the last few days, but there were still many days of work ahead of them. Each night she had been falling into bed exhausted, barely aware of her surroundings. This night was no different.

“Nahko’e!”[1] she heard her son whisper and then she felt his nudge. She opened her eyes and stared up at the boy. He was kneeling beside her pallet of furs, his hand still on her shoulder.

“What is it, Nae’ha?”[2]

“I hear something...outside. I think someone is creeping around out there.”

She frowned. “It’s probably just one of the dogs. Is Gopher here?”

“Yes. He is asleep just outside,” he replied.

“What about Lady?” she asked. He shook his head. She yawned. “It is probably just her then.”

He shook his head again. “It is not Lay-tee, Nahko’e. She went inside with nesko[3] this night.”

Hannah sighed. She knew that she was going to have to get up. She had been noticing footprints around the area and it had worried her, but she had also been too busy to look into it. And now she was tired, _beyond_ tired really, but her son was clearly frightened and she didn’t want that. Pushing herself up, she cringed at the burning of her sore muscles. Standing, she dressed quickly, then tucked her knife in the sheath at her back, picked up a quiver of arrows, and shouldered her bow.

“Stay here with esemahe,”[4] she said to her son, then slipped outside. Gopher’s head came up and his tail wagged. Hannah dropped onto her haunches and patted the dog’s head. Ever since she had returned, Gopher had made himself at home at her side. When she was at home, he was at her heels. When she was working, he followed and expressed his interest by sniffing around her work. When she slept, he lay curled by her fire inside, or outside guarding. And when she left the ranch, he followed her to the property line and whined until she told him to go home or allowed him to follow.

“Stay with nanesoneho!”[5] she commanded. Gopher whined, but dropped his head onto his paws and watched his favorite human walk off. Hannah started by going around her lodge in ever widening circles, stopping only when she reached the treeline and then searching the ground for some sign that someone had been there, outside their tepee. She went from tree to tree, kneeling to study the ground around each, but found nothing. Everything seemed to be lying there naturally, completely undisturbed by walking feet.

A breeze kicked up and leaves blew around her. Hannah glanced over her shoulder, then stood up again. Had she heard something? With a frown, she slipped her knife out of its sheath slowly and started in the direction that _felt_ right to her. She hadn’t taken more than three steps when she heard a noise off to her right. It sounded like something falling through the trees and thumping onto the ground. Frowning, she glanced that way, then back where she had been going. Was it some sort of distraction? Or maybe just a critter leaping through the trees? Unsure, she turned and crept toward the noise she had heard. Going around another few trees, then squatting down to run her hand over the now-still leaves, Hannah listened carefully. What’s out here? she wondered. Looking around, she took a deep breath, then her eyes went back down. That was when she saw a snapped twig and a footprint. For several moments she stared at them. She almost picked up the twig, then decided against it, choosing instead to closely examine the print on the ground; it was not a booted print, it was one that could only have been made by a moccasin-covered foot. Hannah frowned. Then she leaned forward to measure the print, considerably larger than her own, and carelessly planted, breaking the twig and alerting of someone’s presence. For a brief moment she wondered if Many Horses had come back to watch her, to protect her, then she rejected the idea; he would not have been so careless. If it _was_ he who watched her, she would never have been aware of it; he would have covered his tracks. And _this print_ is larger than Many Horses’ is anyway, she thought as she examined its outline in the dirt. She had repaired her brother-in-law’s footwear on more than one occasion and knew well his size.

But who could this print belong to? A thought was forming when she heard a scratching sound—the striking of a match. She glanced up in time to see smoke billowing around a hatted figure and a hand shaking the flame out.

“Little late for you to be out roamin’, ain’t it?”

Hannah stood and held her knife in front of her. She recognized the voice, but didn’t know to whom it belonged. “Who’s out there?” she asked.

Soft manly laughter gurgled, but no answer came. Instead, more smoke billowed as he took another drag.

“What do you want?” She raised her knife to her mouth, holding it there for easy access, then slowly reached and notched an arrow.

“That won’t be necessary, Miss Cooke. I’m not of a mind to harm you,” the man said. Hannah watched as he took a heavy drag off his smoke, then dropped it and ground it out with his boot. She focused on his feet; he was not the man lurking around her lodge. Relaxing somewhat, she took the weapon gripped between her teeth into her plucking hand so that she could speak.

“What do you want?” she repeated, stretching her bowstring taut again. His chuckle grated on her nerves, but she waited silently for him to answer. Instead, he stepped out of the shadows. She was surprised by who it was. It was the young man named Kyle, the man her father’s foreman had barked at the day she had met him. Her eyes narrowed.

“I don’t wanna thing,” he finally replied. “I was just out havin’ a smoke and happened to notice you.” He paused. “What are ya doin’ out here so late anyway?” he asked.

Hannah straightened up and slipped her bow to her shoulder. “My son heard something. I was...investigating.”

“Hmm... _interesting_. Maybe you should get a job workin’ in town with the sheriff. I hear your brother’s willing ta hire just ‘bout anyone.”

Hannah frowned, wondering what he meant. “I really have no interest in the law, Mr. Matthews. I am just concerned about what goes on _here_.” She gestured about.

“I see.”

Hannah’s brow raised. “Have you...seen anything... _anyone_ ,” she corrected, “around here?”

“I don’t think so...sorry.”

She frowned again. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t say so if it wasn’t so,” he replied. “There might be someone out there, but I ain’t seen ‘im. I was just smokin’.”

Hannah exhaled. He sounded annoyed, as if she had done something to him personally. She decided to be frank. “You do not like me, do you?”

He shrugged noticeably. “I don’t rightly know ya, Miss Cooke, now do I?”

“You did not answer the question, Mr. Matth—”

“Just Kyle is fine.”

She frowned. “You do not like me, do you, _Just_ Kyle?” She could see him grin.

Feisty little thing, he thought with amusement. “Let’s just say that...I don’t like _Injuns_ much, Ma‘am.”

“Does that include _white squaws_?” she asked, repeating the term she had heard in town. He shrugged. “The Indians are no different than we are!” she snapped. She stopped herself then; it was pointless to follow this line of discussion. “But we go off topic. Have you, or have you not, noticed anyone skulking around here or near my lodge?”

His gaze floated in the direction of her tepee, then back at her. “I have not!”

“Then there is nothing else to discuss.” She paused and waited for him to respond. He did not. “And I would appreciate it if you did not come near my home.” With that, she turned and walked off.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Cooke,” he called out after her. “Sleep tight.”

**~oOo~**

Black Hawk had been relieved when Hannah turned away from him. Had she continued forward, she would have come upon him and there was nothing he could have done to prevent it; he had trapped himself and was cursing silently for being so careless. He knew that it was only the pebble he had thrown that had redirected her path and saved him from discovery, and even that may not have been enough, had the ranch hand not been out there. He knew he’d have to move his camp the following morning.

After her direction changed though, he had followed her, this time making a wide arc and skirting the trees in an attempt to stay a safe distance from her. And then he had watched the exchange between Hannah and the ranch hand, furious with himself for putting her in that position. He knew he should have done a better job of tracking her; he certainly shouldn’t have gotten close enough to her tepee for his shuffling to have been heard by a mere boy. And that print she had found. _Damn_! he cursed, knowing it was probably his undoing.

Listening to the short conversation, Black Hawk was thankful that he had not been seen, by either Hannah or anyone else. Though he had been heard by the woman’s young son, the man named Kyle didn’t seem to know anything; he hadn’t seen anyone. Sighing his relief, Black Hawk watched as she turned from the man and walked away. His eyes stayed on the man until he left the area, then Black Hawk followed Hannah, this time moving more cautiously. He saw her kneel and pet her dog lovingly.

“You keep watch for us, Gopher,” he heard her say. He had heard her call the animal by name on many occasions. Knowing this had helped him, helped him to get close to the animal, making it possible for him to watch his charge without being detected. Of course, the strips of meat he’d given the dog had helped as well.

Black Hawk saw her take the fur of the dog’s neck into her hands and then kiss the top of its head before moving to the opening of her home. He found himself wishing that he was the dog. He watched as she cast one last glance outside, then went in. He could only watch as the flap of her tepee slapped closed, leaving him on the outside. He then watched her form move in front of her fire as she crossed the space inside the dwelling. Kneeling down, she spoke quietly with her son. From where he was he could not hear their words, but her tone was reassuring. He waited until she finished speaking to the boy, not knowing what he expected her to do next, and then he watched as she stood up, her shape dark behind the hide walls. He saw her put some things down, her weapons he assumed, and then he stared as her dress slipped over her shoulders and to the ground. Knowing that she now stood there naked, he glanced away, but was unable to suppress a gasp. He was thankful that he was far enough away that she would not hear him. But her dog had. Gopher had known he was there, but now the animal’s head was up and watching as well.

His eyes going to the night sky and the full moon overhead, Black Hawk tried not to look back at her. But he could not help himself when her bare silhouette danced in front of the flames, drawing his eyes and causing a painful tightening in his loins. Though he could see little more than the outline of her body now, he was able to picture her in his mind, just as if she stood naked in front of him. And he _had_ seen her before. In the days that he had been watching her, he had seen _all_ of her. Guilt seared his heart; he knew it wasn’t right, that he should not be looking at her, especially without her knowing it, but he didn’t know how to avoid it. How could he _not_ see her, when he was supposed to be watching her? he asked himself. He wished he could ask the sheriff, but he knew that wasn’t an option. How could he ask _her brother_ such a thing? And part of him knew that he would not avoid it, even if he could, and that was where the guilt came from.

Gritting his teeth, he continued to watch her. The lines of her body, from head to toe, were perfect in every way. He even liked her hair, blonde and shorter than his own, and decorated with feathers in a way that only a man would adorn himself, loosely braided, some strands blowing freely around her face and into her mesmerizing sky-blue eyes. It was a color that every Cooke shared; their eyes such a light blue that they shocked one’s senses. But Black Hawk did not care about the other Cookes; he only had eyes for Ve’otse’e.[6] He had memorized her straight nose, the stubborn set of her chin and a neck that just begged to be kissed. He wished he had the nerve...the right to kiss her, but he knew he did not. Grimacing, his eyes slid over the outline of her shoulders, strong yet delicate, and he had to swallow hard when she turned slightly, revealing breasts that were still high and firm, despite the fact that she had nourished two children with them. He had to swallow yet again as his gaze dipped into the outline of her small waist and paused at her stomach. He knew that it was slightly lined, from being full with her children, though he could not see it now, but that it was nearly flat, the skin taut. It was perfect; _she_ was perfect, he thought as his eyes smoothed over her gently curving hips and down her long, shapely legs, which he knew to be deeply tanned from spending so much time in the sun. She was beautiful. Black Hawk still hadn’t gotten over the shock of that beauty; he didn’t think that he ever would.

And then she shocked him again. A jolt went through him when she bent over to pick up her garment. He wanted nothing more than to come up behind her and...and.... He shuddered as raw desire pulled at him, then he ground his teeth as she dropped down and slid into her furs. He wanted nothing more than to slide into _her_ fur. He wanted her legs wrapped around him while he buried himself deeply into her body. He shivered at the thought. He wanted this woman more than he had ever wanted another and he was tired of just watching her. Watching her was pure torture. What had he gotten himself into?

 

[1]. Nahko’e (Náhko’e) - Mother

[2]. Nae’ha - Son

[3]. nesko (neško) – your mother

[4]. esemahe (ésemáhe) – your (younger) sibling

[5]. nanesoneho (nanésoneho) – my children

[6]. Ve’otse’e – Warpath Woman


	22. Chapter 22

** CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO **

Hannah rode Whirlwind determinedly toward town. It was exactly a week since the night she had investigated the noises Little Porcupine had heard, and had found a footprint. That footprint was only one of many; she had found several other prints somewhat close to her tepee again that morning and was now fairly sure as to whom they belonged. But what she wasn’t quite sure about was which man she wanted to confront first. There was no telling where the two men would be, but she figured that she’d start at one end of town and work her way to the other. They were just lucky that she had had chores to keep her busy for several days and that her ride into town was long enough to cool her down some. It was late afternoon when she reined her pony toward the livery.

“Miss Cooke.” The livery owner tipped his hat respectfully, but his tone did not mask his disdain. No woman considered decent would have run off with an Indian or saw fit to be seen with one in town. But, fortunately for her, the man had enough regard for her father that he would keep his thoughts to himself.

“Mr. Cooper,” she returned stiffly, but politely as she slid off her horse. “Do you have room for Whirlwind this afternoon?” She knew that he did, and that he would not refuse, but asking always seemed to make things easier.

The man nodded. “Yeah, there’s room,” he replied, taking the horse’s reins. “Will she be staying over night?”

Hannah glanced at her carpetbag, then up at the sun. She hadn’t planned on staying, but her mother had shoved the bag into her hands, saying that it would be too late to return when her _business_ had concluded. She didn’t want to stay in town overnight, especially with the mood she was in, but she had to admit that her mother was right. She was just glad her mother hadn’t sent one of her brothers with her. With a frown, Hannah reached for her bag.

“Yes, she will be staying.” She paused. “Is there someone that would take my bag and a note over to the sheriff’s office?” she asked; she wanted to start at this end of town.

Mr. Cooper stared at her for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, my boy can do it.” He abruptly turned and started away from her. “Go on into the office. I’ll send the boy in.”

Hannah watched him go, then hurried inside.

**~oOo~**

“Is this all miss?” the boy asked. He was holding Hannah’s bag in one hand and her note in the other.

“Yep,” she said with a smile and a nod as she held out her hand to pay the livery owner’s youngest boy for his assistance. His eyes widened when she dropped two bits into his hand.

“Is there something wrong?” she asked him.

“This is too much!” he protested. He had not expected to be paid at all.

Hannah shrugged. “Not to me. Please tell your pa that I will be back tomorrow.”

” _Yes miss_!”

Hannah grinned as she watched the boy run off, then she started across the street to her first destination.

**~oOo~**

The bell dangling in the doorway jingled as the older woman stepped though the office door. Inserting the key into its portal, she locked the office up, then shoved the small metal instrument into the bag that she held. Her reticule tucked securely under her arm, she adjusted her hat and looked up. That was when she saw the young woman walking toward her. “The doctor is finished for the day, dearie. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

Hannah glanced at the office door, then frowned. “I am actually here to see Black Hawk, Ma’am. Might he be around?”

The older woman squinted, then pushed her spectacles into position. “I don’t think that he’s here, dearie,” the woman said. She quickly looked the young woman up and down and, knowing immediately who she was, continued on. “But you are welcome to go knock on their front door. There’s always a chance that he’s home. Though,” she said through pursed lips, “he’s not been around much lately.”

Hannah continued to frown. I’ll bet, she said to herself. She knew exactly where the man had been lately—creeping around her tepee. That was why she was here. “Do you have any idea where he could be?”

The woman shook her head. “I’m afraid not, dearie. It’s hard to keep track of where young men spend their time.” She paused at Hannah’s look of disgust. “I know that I shouldn’t suggest this, but you could try one of the saloons. I know that he occasionally goes into Harry’s.” The woman paused to glance around, then looked back at Hannah. “And Harry doesn’t keep women in his establishment,” she whispered, “if you get my meaning.

Hannah nodded and tried to hide her smile. “And what about Dr. Walker? Is he at home?”

“ _Oh no,_ ” the woman said with a grin. “It’s Wednesday...I _know_ he’s at Harry’s.”

Hannah smiled again. “What happens at Harry’s on Wednesdays?”

“It’s the big poker night, dearie. And beer is on the house for those playing poker. Dr. Walker’s not much of a beer drinker, but he _loves_ poker.”

“I see. I think I will try Harry’s then,” Hannah said. “Thank you.”

The woman reached out and patted Hannah’s hand. “Oh, think nothing of it, dearie. We women need to stick together. And don’t pay no mind to Harry when he says _ladies ain’t allowed_...he’s bluffing and, _frankly_ , he’s not very good at it.”

Hannah grinned. “All right, I will ignore him. My name is Hannah, by the way.”

“Yes, yes, I know that.” She watched Hannah’s brow knit into a frown, then she went on. “Everyone knows who you are. There’s no denying who you are with those big blue eyes...and with that dress you’re not the other Cooke beauty.” Hannah bit her lip and ran a hand over the front of her beaded dress. The woman smiled kindly. “And I’m Mrs. Berk, dearie. Obviously I work for Dr. Walker. And my son owns the mill.”

“It’s good to meet you, Mrs. Berk.”

Mrs. Berk smiled. “The feeling is mutual. And I hope we will be seeing more of you. Now...I really need to be on my way. And you should hurry on over to Harry’s, the doc isn’t spending the entire evening there tonight.”

“Oh, all right. Have a nice day...and thank you again.”

**~oOo~**

Hannah watched Mrs. Berk walk down Back Street, then she herself headed toward Little Creek’s main road. Late afternoon bustle on the street was as usual. People were busy and most ignored her, though a few eyes watched her. Mr. Kelly stood outside talking to the deliveryman; he glanced her way, tipping his head slightly. Hannah gave the man a nod in return. Another pair of men sat outside the _Black Hartes_ saloon; they were watching her closely. Hannah ignored them as she waited on the walk just outside the mercantile. Her attention was focused on a carriage passing by in the street, and then a fully-loaded buckboard passing rapidly in the opposite direction. She stared after the wagon for a moment, then advanced into the street, side-stepping a steaming pile of fresh manure as she went. On the other side of the street, she continued on her way to Harry’s.

**~oOo~**

Inside the dank and dark room a dozen or so men sat there drinking and smoking and gambling. When the heavy front door opened, all eyes swung toward the intruder and the barkeep glanced up from behind the bar. All his usual Wednesday patrons were already there. With a frown, the older man put down the pitcher of beer he was holding and wiped his hands on a towel.

“No ladies allowed,” he called out. “Sorry.”

Hannah took a deep breath, then stepped inside and shut the door. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the dimly lit interior of the room, but once they had, she saw the owner standing behind the bar in the back. She heard him sigh as she advanced into his establishment, and ignored the eyes that followed her.

“Didn’t you hear me, miss? I don’t allow ladies in my saloon,” he said. “It disturbs the men,” he added.

“Ah, Harry,” a man said, “maybe you could make an exception...just this once. This one’s too pretty to throw out.”

“ _See_?” Harry said when she stopped in front of him. “What do you want?”

Hannah frowned into the man’s silvery grey-blue eyes; he seemed familiar, yet she knew she had never met him. “I’m sorry sir...”

“Harry,” he corrected her. “The name’s Harry.” He slowly appraised her, then glanced over her shoulder at the men. Most had gone back to their gambling. Only one man still watched. “What can I do for you, miss?” Harry asked again. This time with a decidedly more friendly tone.

Hannah looked back at the gamblers; Black Hawk was not among them. She knew that she should probably just leave, but something told her to stay. Turning back toward the saloon owner, she was caught by a glint in his eyes.

“I am looking for someone,” she finally said.

He raised a brow. “Someone in particular?” he asked. She nodded, then waited for him to continue. “And who might that be?” He narrowed his eyes questioningly.

She bit her lip. “Do you know of the man called Black Hawk?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah...I’ve heard of him.” He picked up his towel and started wiping down the bar top. “Half-breed, right?”

Hannah frowned. “I don’t see how that has anything to do with it.”

The bartender stopped wiping and looked at her. “I suppose not. What about him?”

Hannah stared at him for a moment, then continued. “Have you seen him? Lately?”

“Not today,” he replied. Hannah frowned and looked down, her shoulders slumped slightly. She did not notice him glance at someone behind her. “But maybe you should talk to my brother...Daniel.”

Hannah looked up at Harry, then at the man that had come to stand beside her. He seemed to be close in age to the barkeep, possibly a bit older, and he was tall— _extremely_ tall. She knew she had never seen this man either, but there was a familiarity about him as well. It was his eyes; they were also a silvery grey-blue.

She cocked her head. “Sir?” She was speaking to Harry, but it was Daniel that answered her.

“What can I do for you, Miss Cooke?” the tall man asked her.

Hannah frowned. Did the entire town know who she was? Even those she had never laid eyes on before? It was disconcerting.

“Miss Cooke?” he prompted.

“How is it that you know my name?” she finally asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

The man smiled. “You are a friend of my son, are you not?”

Hannah’s forehead knotted. “Your _son_? Who is...” She paused and stared into his familiar eyes. “Dr. Walker?” she asked.

The man’s smile widened. His eyes twinkled. “At your service.” He tipped his hat, then took her elbow and guided her to an empty table in the corner of the room. Hannah allowed him to do so, then sat down when he pulled out a chair for her. She watched as he took a seat beside her and held up two fingers to his brother. She looked over at Harry and watched as he poured a glass of beer and a shot of whiskey and start toward them. When he set the glasses down, she frowned; she had never tried beer before. Wine with dinner and occasionally a brandy, and once she had even sneaked some of her father’s whiskey, but never had she had beer. She wasn’t even supposed to be inside a saloon, she thought, wondering what her mother would say if she knew. She was about to protest when the doctor spoke.

“Now, you’re looking for my Black Hawk?” He picked up his glass and downed it. Hannah watched him and bit her lip nervously.

“Yes, Sir, I am. Have you seen him?”

“Hmm...not much...as of late.” He set his glass down, then wiped his arm across his mouth and pointed at her glass. “Drink up.”

Hannah glanced at her full glass, then back at the man. “I have not ever had beer before, Sir. Maybe I shouldn’t.” She pushed the glass toward the man. “You’re paying for it, you should drink it.”

The man chuckled. “Actually, I didn’t...pay for it, I mean. My brother doesn’t charge me. But...I can’t drink it.” He pushed it back at her, then pulled his watch out of his pocket. “I need to be leaving.” Hannah frowned, but Daniel smiled as she picked up the glass and took a sip. “Not bad, eh?” he asked.

Hannah licked the foam from her lips. The brew was bitter, but not so bad. She smiled slightly. “No. It’s pretty good." He returned her smile. “But my mother will have my head if she finds out I’ve been in a saloon having a drink.”

Daniel smiled at his pretty young drinking companion and waited while she took another sip. “Now,” he began when her glass clinked down on the table again, “what do you want with Black Hawk?”

“I...I just wanted to know where he was?” She glanced away. She really didn’t want to start making accusations without at least talking to the man first.

Daniel frowned then. “Has he done something...inappropriate?” he asked, knowing that his son had developed feelings for the young woman and wondering what she might be feeling for him in return.

Hannah shook her head. “No...I don’t think so. I just wanted to talk to him.”

Daniel watched her. He was fairly certain she had figured out that Black Hawk had been following her around, but he couldn’t tell if she was upset about it. She did seem mildly irritated, though he wasn’t completely sure. She _had_ , after all, come into a saloon looking for the man. _Would she do that if she_ weren’t _upset_? he wondered. He was glad he could honestly tell her he hadn’t seen much of his son. Somehow he knew that she’d feel it if he was anything less than honest. He was more comfortable with the truth anyway.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you,” he said. “That one’s always been hard to keep track of.” He smiled at her sympathetically. She smiled back. “He’s always been a good boy though.”

Hannah continued to smile. It was strange to hear the man talk about his grown son as if he were still a child. “Well thank you,” she said, pushing back her chair and standing. “I don’t want to keep you, Dr. Walker.”

He stood with her. “I won’t be leaving for another...” he looked at his watch again, “...probably another hour. You’re welcome to stay and finish your drink.”

Hannah glanced down at her nearly full glass, then grinned up at the man. “What happened to not allowing women in here?”

He shrugged. “Being related to the owner has its perks.”

She nodded. “I suppose it does. But, as much as I’d like to stay, I do need to go see my brother as well. I should go.”

Daniel nodded and pushed in his chair. Hannah did the same. She was slightly startled when she felt his hand on the small of her back. He was walking her to the door. At the door, he held out his hand. “It was nice to meet you,” he said when she took it. “Maybe we’ll see you again soon?”

Hannah nodded. “I think...I would like that.”

“That’s very good to hear,” he said with a grin. “Have a good day now.”

**~oOo~**

Outside the heavy wooden door of Harry’s, Hannah stood motionless. Black Hawk could see her from where he stood, just across the street, but slightly around the corner. He had watched her talking to Mrs. Berk and wondered why she had gone to his father’s animal clinic in the first place. But then, when her next stop was his uncle’s saloon, he could think of no other explanation except that she was suspicious. What does she know? he wondered.

He had watched her shake hands with his father and then just stand there. He could almost read her thoughts. His eyes followed her as she walked off; she was heading for the sheriff’s office, he was certain. He would go talk to his father.

**~oOo~**

As Hannah came onto Main Street, she saw Abigail sitting on the balcony above her family’s store. Hannah had been heading over to see Michael, but veered for Kelly’s instead. She was greeted by Mrs. Kelly almost immediately.

“Hannah, dear,” the older woman said after handing a receipt to a customer. “What brings you into town today?”

Hannah smiled. “I’ve come to visit with Michael,” she said. “Among other things,” she added under her breath. “I saw Abby on the balcony. Do you think I could see her today?”

Mrs. Kelly grabbed onto Hannah’s hand and grinned. “I think so. She seems to be in a _very_ good mood.” She paused. “Why don’t you come back and have supper with us. We’ll be eating in about an hour.”

Hannah nodded. “Oh...that would be nice. Thank you. I think that will give me just enough time to go see Michael.”

The two women spoke for a few more minutes, then Hannah hurried off. She walked without haste, determined to get to her brother’s without further distraction. She quickly gained the walk outside Michael’s office and opened the door. His two deputies looked up when she entered. Both stood and removed their hats. “Miss,” they said in unison.

Hannah frowned. “No need to be so formal, boys, we’re nearly family.”

Both men stared at her. Billy recovered first, smiling pleasantly. “Good afternoon, Hannah. How’re ya today?”

“I am fine, thank you,” she replied. “Michael around?”

Both men shook their heads, but this time Jake answered her. “Naw, but he should be back soon. The noon stage didn’t arrive again, so he’s been tryin’ ta find out what happened.” Jake came around his desk and offered her a chair.

“Was it robbed again?” Hannah asked as she sat down.

Jake shrugged. “Not sure yet. I certainly hope not! No one wants ta come to a town when the stage keeps gettin’ held up.”

“I suppose not,” Hannah replied. “Maybe the stage company needs to hire another shotgun.”

Billy laughed. “You lookin’ for some work, Hannah? As I recall, you’re a pretty sharp shot.”

Hannah grinned, but shook her head. “Are you kidding? My pa would _never_ let me do something like that. I’m just lucky he’s lettin’ me work the ranch.”

Jake smiled. He couldn’t help but think that she’d hardly ever, as long as he’d known her, done what her father expected of her. Always the rebel, he thought, but that’s not what he said. “Well, you got the right idea, Hannah. But the stage owners are too cheap to hire another body.”

“Unlike my brother?” she asked, trying to keep her tone neutral.

Jake and Billy looked at each other in confusion. “What’re ya referin’ to, Hannah?” Jake finally asked.

Hannah studied them both for a moment, suddenly wondering if her brother’s deputies knew anything about Black Hawk following her. She decided that they didn’t. “Ahh...I mean...Michael pays you well, does he not?”

Jake eyed her, wondering what she was getting at. “Actually, our salaries are paid by the town.”

“Oh. I see. That makes sense.”

“It’s like that in most towns...it keeps the sheriff honest.” Jake frowned. “Not that Michael’s not, mind you.”

Hannah smiled. She knew what the man meant. “I understand, Jake. You don’t have to explain.”

“Little Creek’s lucky that the town council wants to keep this place safe,” Billy put in. “We’re really much too small to have a sheriff and _two_ deputies. Sometimes I feel like I don’t do much for my pay.”

Hannah smiled. “Well, as they say, _it’s better to be safe than sorry_ , right?” The two men nodded.

“Of course,” Billy said. “It’s just that sometimes I feel guilty.”

“Well don’t...the townspeople are lucky to have all three of you.” She smiled again. “Hey, how long has Michael been gone?”

“Quite a while, actually,” said Jake.

“Want me to go tell him you’re here?” Billy offered.

Hannah frowned. “No. It’s just that I have supper plans at the Kelly’s. Do you know if he received the note I sent over with the Cooper boy?”

“Yeah, he got it,” Billy said. “The boy gave me your things and I handed them to Michael myself. Would you like us ta just let him know where you’re going ta be.”

Hannah had to think about it. She glanced up at the wall clock, then finally nodded. “If you wouldn’t mind? I really don’t want to trouble you, but that _would be_ helpful.”

“Naw, it’s no trouble. Billy can let him know. And I’ll walk ya over ta Kelly’s,” Jake said, standing up and glancing at his watch. “I’m off just about now anyway.”

“Well, thank you both.” She stood up, said goodbye to Billy, then walked out with Jake.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is...shall I say...a bit a clue about Hannah's BFF in this chapter. It's all in the spelling, but I have had no one catch it (in previous readings). I'll just say that it's NOT a typo. Lol. It is my intention that "book" three in the Circle C series would be about Abigail Kelly...should I ever finish writing the SECOND "book" (about Magen) in this series. Haha.

** CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE **

Hannah stood there stiffly, offering a polite smile, when the mercantile door opened and Mr. Kelly stood there staring at her. He gave her the once-over, as he always did these days, then he took a step backward.

“Come in,” he said gruffly.

Hannah moved into the store and waited while her friend’s father locked the door again. Then she followed him through to the stairs that led up to his home. He did not speak, nor did she; she didn’t know what to say to him. He seemed such a different man than she remembered. She supposed that she had changed significantly over the years as well.

When they got upstairs, he walked her into their living space, then went to find his wife. Mrs. Kelly appeared quickly, looking bright and cheerful.

“I am so pleased that you could make it this evening, dear. Abigail is positively beside herself.” Mrs. Kelly leaned in and gave Hannah a friendly hug. “Supper will be ready shortly. Why don’t you go on into Abigail’s bedroom.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Kelly. I will.” Hannah turned to leave and had to sidestep Mr. Kelly in the hallway. He did not seem pleased to have her in his home, but she smiled at him anyway.

**~oOo~**

Hannah knocked on her friend’s door. No answer. “Abbs?” she called out quietly. She was about to knock again when the door swung open and Abigail appeared, eyes shining, no sign of her depression visible.

“Oh Hannie! I am so glad you could make it!” Abigail grabbed Hannah’s hand and yanked her into the room, grinning like a schoolgirl. “When mother said you were coming for supper, I almost didn’t believe her.”

Hannah smiled. “I had things to do in town today, so this worked out perfectly. And I am starved too. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Abigail frowned. “Breakfast? Doesn’t your father feed you?”

Hannah giggled, then realized her friend was serious. She even sounded disgusted. “Oh Abbs, it’s not like that, Pa feeds me...I was just too busy to think about food today. There were cows to milk, chickens to feed, water to fetch, and then all those fences to work on....” Her voice trailed off. Abigail didn’t look convinced. “ _Really_ , Abby. Do I look like someone who’s starving?” she asked.

Abigail’s eyes roved up and down Hannah’s body; she was by no means skinny. Finally she smiled and it was real. “No, I suppose not.” She paused. “But you are hungry tonight, right? Mother has cooked my favorite.” She brought her hands together and clasped them tightly.

“Oh yes, I could definitely eat tonight.”

Abigail grinned. “Good then, let’s go.”

**~oOo~**

“It’s so nice to have company this evening. Isn’t it, Jacob?”

Mr. Kelly stared at his wife, then glanced at his smiling daughter and nodded reluctantly. The look on Abigail’s face made the effort worth it, but that was as far as he was willing to go. He just wasn’t comfortable having an Indian-lover in his home, not after what the savages had done to Jaime, his only son.

“Please pass the potatoes,” he said stiffly. Mrs. Kelly pursed her lips, then picked up the bowl and handed it to him.

Mrs. Kelly spooned out vegetables for everyone, then dished out the meat. For most of the meal they listened to Abigail happily chattering about this and that, nothing important, mostly things that happened in the past. She mentioned her brother a few times, seemingly in the present tense, making Hannah wonder if her friend even knew what year it was. It was eerie, and odd that no one stopped or corrected her.

“Hannie, would you like to see a picture of Jamie?” Abigail asked excitedly.

Hannah stared at her friend for several long moments, then glanced at Mr. and Mrs. Kelly. She didn’t know what to say. She had seen many pictures of her friend’s brother. She was even in a couple of them. Why is Abby so obsessed with the past? she wondered. She was about to nod her head when Mr. Kelly cleared her throat and spoke.

“I don’t think this is the time, Abigail,” he said sternly.

“Yes, maybe later,” Mrs. Kelly said with a pat on her daughter’s hand. Abigail’s eyes filled with tears, but she nodded understanding. Hannah bit her lip and frowned as an uncomfortable silence enveloped them. She watched as Mrs. Kelly picked up her glass and drank, as Mr. Kelly shoved a bite of meat in his mouth, and as Abigail stared despondently at her plate. It seemed as if no one was willing to look at anyone else, so Hannah tried to focus on something else. She didn’t know what to do with herself. The sudden quiet and everyone’s strange behavior gave her a chill, and made her want to leave, but she knew she couldn’t do that to her friend. Finally, _thankfully_ , the silence was broken by Mrs. Kelly.

“So Hannah...how have you been?” she asked.

“Ah, fine thank you,” Hannah responded. Then, to give herself something to do, she reached for the bowl of potatoes that sat in front of her. “I’ve been working hard though...for my pa.”

“Oh?” Mrs. Kelly looked curious. “How so?”

“He recently purchased more land and needs fences put up around it.”

Mrs. Kelly nodded, but Mr. Kelly frowned. “Your pa has _you_ doing that?” he asked, poking his fork in her direction.

“Yes sir,” she said with a nod.

He shrugged. “Seems like a lot of work for a girl,” he commented, then shoved a forkful of meat in his mouth. He’d never understood why Jon Cooke treated his oldest daughter more like a son, allowing her to dress as she pleased and ride around straddling horses like only a man should. Personally, he liked that his daughter wasn’t so inclined to do such things. That she flounced around in feminine dresses, looking like a lady, made him proud. He much preferred that, though she was now only the shell of the woman she used to be.

“Well, I’m not doing it all by myself, Sir.” Hannah struggled not to grin. She knew he believed a woman should stick to woman’s work. “Hunter works with me most of the time. And our hands help out quite a bit as well. I’m not doing the work alone.”

Mr. Kelly put his fork down then and speared his eyes into her. He almost looked angry. “Your father leaves you alone with his men?” He shook his head at her nod, then gulped down most of his drink. “That’s not decent!”

Hannah frowned. “The work needs to get done and sometimes I’m the only one left to do it, Mr. Kelly. I do what I have to.” She paused. “And besides,” she said with a shrug, “I love it! I’ve always loved ranching. The days are long, the work is hard, but at the end of the day I know I have contributed.”

“There _are_ other ways for a woman to contribute to her father’s house,” he put out.

Hannah nodded. She knew he meant inside the home. “Yes...but not for me,” she said stubbornly. “My work is outside, working the ranch with the men. That is all that I have ever wanted.”

Mr. Kelly shook his head again. “It’s not right for a young woman to be alone with men...it’s unseemly!” he ranted. “And he wonders why you ran off with that...that savage,” he spat out in disgust.

“Jacob!” Mrs. Kelly gasped, then raised her napkin to her mouth to cover her trembling lips. Abigail dropped her fork; it clattered loudly on her plate, then fell to the floor. Both women stared at him with wide, shocked eyes, then glanced at their guest to see her reaction. Hannah appeared calm to them, but they saw her eyes narrow as she lowered her fork to the table. They waited.

Hannah took a few breaths before responding. She understood his hate; Indians had killed his son. But understanding his disgust was another story. She could not do that no matter what he had suffered. Not all Indians were bad, in spite of what he thought.

“Mr. Kelly, I _ran off_ with my _husband_ because my pa refused to accept that I loved him. And there was nothing _savage_ about the man. He was the most loving and gentle man that I have ever met.” She glanced at Abby. “ _Any_ woman would have been lucky to have married such a man. God knows that good husbands are hard to find.”

Mr. Kelly’s eyes went to his daughter. Hers had filled with tears again and she trembled visibly. He hated seeing her like that. He desperately wanted to scold Hannah for causing his daughter’s tears, but knew that doing that would only cause more. Instead, he set his napkin next to his plate and stood up.

“I think that it’s time to call it a night. Abigail looks tired.”

Hannah nodded, then glanced at Mrs. Kelly. “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, Mrs. Kelly. Supper was lovely.” Mrs. Kelly only nodded; her eyes were still wide with shock. Hannah then looked at her friend. Abigail’s tears had spilled. Quickly, she stood and came around the table to embrace her friend. When she pulled back she wiped the wetness from her friend’s face. “I will see you again soon Abbs...I promise.”

Abigail nodded, but wouldn’t let go when Hannah tried to step back. Hannah frowned. “What is it, Abby?” she asked her.

“N-no,” Abigail whispered. “I’m not ready for bed yet.” She looked at her father. “I want Hannah to stay. Please father,” she whined.

Mr. Kelly frowned. But once again, unable to say no to his daughter, he nodded, then excused himself instead.

**~oOo~**

After eating, Hannah stayed awhile. Mrs. Kelly had served tea and freshly baked cherry pie, Hannah’s favorite, and the three women were sitting in the parlor talking when the clock began to chime. All turned to look at the tall mahogany moon dial clock that stood at the far end of the room; it was seven o’clock. They listened to the bonging of the clock, then faced one another again.

Hannah sighed. “I guess I should be going,” she finally said, setting her cup down and standing up. The other two women followed suit.

“Oh, do you have to,” Abigail whined as she grabbed a hold of her mother’s hand.

Hannah nodded. “I have already stayed longer than I intended, and the sun will be going down soon...I think that it would be best.”

Mrs. Kelly squeezed her daughter’s hand reassuringly, but smiled at Hannah. “We do understand, dear. It’s just that we’ve had such a lovely visit.” Mrs. Kelly slipped her arm around Hannah and led her to the front door. “And we do hope that you’ll come visit with us again.”

“Oh yes,” Hannah replied. “Of course.”

Mrs. Kelly frowned then and, realizing that the young woman only wore a short-sleeved leather dress, she said, “The evening is cool. I’ll get you a coat.”

“Oh...no thank you Mrs. Kelly, that won’t be necessary. I won’t be going far. Besides, this dress is a lot warmer than it looks.”

The older woman stopped short, but nodded. “Well, all right then. But maybe Jacob should walk you back to your brother’s. It _will be_ dusk soon.”

Hannah smiled. “I think that I will be fine. Please do not worry; I promise to make no stops.”

“Well...if you’re sure.” Mrs. Kelly glanced at her smiling daughter. She was all too happy to see her Abigail’s eyes shining.

“I am, thank you. And again, thank you for the meal.”

**~oOo~**

Abigail stood at the back door of her father’s shop and smiled at her longtime friend. “It was so good to see you, Hannie,” she said. “I hope that we can do this again sometime.”

Hannah hugged her. “Of course we can...and we will. And maybe you can come out to the Circle C and spend some time with me there.”

Abigail grimaced. “I don’t know. My father wouldn’t like it.” She turned and glanced behind herself, then looked back at Hannah. “He’s just like every other man,” she whispered. “Very controlling.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you Abbs?” Hannah asked her.

“Well, don’t you? Look at what that Indian did to you...stealing you right off your father’s land and keeping you a prisoner for... _years_.”

Hannah frowned. “That is not what happened, Abby...I loved my husband. I went with him because I wanted to. He did not take me away. I _wanted_ to go with him.”

Hannah saw confusion on her friend’s face. It was as if she wanted to believe her, but just could not allow herself; believing that her friend had been kidnapped was much easier. Her eyes filled with tears. “I wanted to go with my husband too...but then he didn’t want me anymore. And Jamie begged me to stay, but I couldn’t. He wouldn’t let me.”

Hannah stared at her for a moment. Now _she_ was confused. She didn’t know if she should just nod and agree or negate what her friend was saying. She decided on the latter. “Honey, your brother has been dead for eleven years,” she whispered.

Abigail blinked, then sniffed, then her forehead knotted up. “I...,” she started. “I think I’m tired.”

Hannah tried to smile, but she worried about her friend. “Yes, it is getting late. You lock the door and go on upstairs. I’ll see you soon...I promise.” Hannah stepped outside the back door of the mercantile and waited.

Abigail nodded. “Good night, Hannie,” she finally said. Then she closed and locked the door.

**~oOo~**

Black Hawk sat on the front walk outside Kelly’s waiting for Hannah to come outside. Sitting there gave him plenty of time to think. After following her to his uncle’s saloon, and then talking to his father, he knew for sure that she had been looking for him. Leaving the saloon, he had headed over to the sheriff’s office; he had come around the corner just in time to see one of the town’s deputies walking Hannah over to the mercantile. Dropping onto the nearest bench, Black Hawk had watched as she smiled up at the man. Jealousy twisted in his gut. What was she saying to the man? And why is she smiling at him like that? he couldn’t help but wonder. He let out a sigh of relief when Jake finally turned and walked away from her.

And now, several hours later, he still sat outside, occasionally glancing in the storefront window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the woman he was supposed to be protecting. Unfortunately it was too dark inside to see anything.

And then he saw a light come on and heard muffled voices approaching. He watched as Hannah and her friend came into view, but frowned as they turned and walked away from him. He realized then that Hannah planned on leaving from the back. Quickly, he jumped up and headed down Main Street so that he could circle around the buildings.

**~oOo~**

Hannah stood there for a moment, her back against the door to the mercantile, and thought about Abigail’s strange behavior. Then she sighed deeply and started for the hotel; it was closer than the sheriff’s office and much more private. She had fully intended on heading to her brother’s, but now that the night was beginning, all she wanted was to be alone for a while. And she knew that wouldn’t happen if she went back to Michael’s. She was walking slowly, determinedly toward the hotel, when something snaked around her waist from behind.

“Well, look what we have here...the lone _white squaw_.”

Hannah tried to twist around, to break free, but the arm held her tight. She heard a chuckle from slightly behind—not the man that held her—and then she felt a hand slide up her thigh and a prickly beard brush across her neck. Stale whiskey breath assaulted her senses.

“We’re gonna have us some fun,” the man said, as he ground himself against her. Hannah could feel his repulsive arousal and tried to relax, to bide her time. She knew she’d never break free; his vise-like grip was much too strong for her, but she also knew she had to make him think she wasn’t going to fight him. And it seemed to be working. As he continued to rub himself up against her, she just stood there.

“You like that, don’t ya _squaw_? he demanded harshly as he nibbled on her neck. She fought to hide a shudder when the man’s sloppy tongue licked her bare neck. It was disgusting, but she did nothing, until he tried to twist her head around and kiss her on the mouth. That was more than she could take; she renewed her struggle. She managed to land her elbow in her attacker’s ribs, but it was not enough.

“Hey! you little bitch,” the man said, leaning down and biting her on the neck painfully, then pushing her up against the wall to the hotel roughly. She gasped as the side of her face slammed into the wall; she knew the blow would leave a nasty bruise.

“That’s not how this is gonna work,” the other man said, coming up and standing close, breathing the same stinky breath on her exposed cheek. “You see, we figure that you’re in the wrong line of work and we just thought we’d...redirect you.” She squirmed as a hand clamped over her right breast and squeezed hard, but she could hardly move.

“Yeah!” the man holding her laughed. “Right here in this alley,” he said as he used his leg to bring her to the ground. Hannah let herself fall, but kicked out hard once she was on the ground, causing the man to stumble backward and fall on his rump. His friend stared for a moment, then moved toward her. But she was quicker; her knife was out and ready. She managed to make a swipe, nicking her attacker, before a boot hit her and her knife went flying. And then things got confusing. Suddenly it wasn’t just two men standing there in front of her, it was three, and one of them seemed to be helping her. She didn’t bother to ask any questions, thinking it better to fight at the moment. And then it was over and her attackers were fleeing, and she was standing there with a shocked look in her eyes.


	24. Chapter 24

** CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR **

Her attackers were nearly out of sight and she was ready to go after them, but Black Hawk prevented it. Hannah looked up at him with fire in her eyes. “What...are you _following_ me?” she accused. He turned without answering her to pick up his fallen hat, giving her her answer. She’d already known it, but his silence was proof in her mind.

“I can take care of myself, you know!” she insisted, hands on her hips and glaring at him.

“Yeah, I can see that!” he growled as he shoved his hat on his head and started down the street. “And maybe next time you can fight off three or four of them.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time!” she snapped, leaning to get her knife and then following him.

“Hey!” she exclaimed angrily as she grabbed onto his arm to stop him. “I told you that I do not need your protection.”

“I know what you told me, Ve’otse’e,[1] but it seems you keep getting yourself into trouble, and I just happen to be there when you do.”

“Just happen, huh?” Her tone was full of sarcasm, but he ignored it and nodded. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

He shrugged. “Believe what you wish.”

Hannah frowned at his seemingly cold tone; it didn‘t match his posture or the look of worry in his expressive eyes. “I do not need you, or _anybody_ , to protect me, Black Hawk; here in town...or _anywhere_ else!”

“Yes, you do,” he said sternly.

She shook her head. “ _No_ , I do not. I am perfectly capable—”

“Oh, I can see that,” he said with a roll of his eyes as he gestured about, then continued to speak. “You were handling _that_ mess quite capably.”

“I have been through worse. I would have been fine.” She bit her lip. _Probably_ , she added silently.

Black Hawk shifted on his feet, his distress evident. “ _Someone’s_ trying to hurt you, Hannah. I’m just—”

“It is not your concern,” she interrupted with a shake of her head as she turned away from him and started down the alley.

Black Hawk quickly reached out and stopped her retreat. “I have made it my concern,” he growled through gritted teeth. “Do you really expect me to do nothing?”

Hannah took a deep breath, then shook her head. He was right, though it galled her to admit it. “I suppose not.” She narrowed her eyes at him and noticed he had been injured—again. “You’re bleeding,” she said, reaching up gently to push his long, nearly black hair away from his bleeding brow. He started to flinch away from her, but he froze at her touch.

“Oh! You’re cut pretty badly,” she exclaimed.

“One of those bastards clocked me fairly hard.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “But _you_ appear to have escaped unscathed...for the most part,” he added, noticing her bruise. “How is that?”

She dropped his hair and moved back a step to look up at him. “I told you that I do not need protection.”

“Humph!” he huffed. “Well, how about sewing me up this time? My father’s out of town.” He hadn’t meant to ask, but the words came out before he could stop them.

Hannah stared at him for a moment, then nodded her head and followed him to his father’s clinic. They walked down the deserted alley in silence, stopping at the front door of Black Hawk’s father’s clinic. Hannah waited while Black Hawk dug around in his pocket for a key, then she stepped through the doorway and waited in the darkness as he lit a lamp.

Black Hawk gave her a moment to let her eyes adjust, and to look around the room. He was curious about what she would think. He watched her eyes roam. It was a medium-sized room, painted a very pale yellow with subtle Indian designs wrapping around the room at about waist level. There were a few chairs for customers to wait in and a desk where his father’s helper, Mrs. Berk, sat during the day.

“We can go in the back,” he said as he lit a second lamp and opened a door. “The examination room is back here.” He stepped into the next room and she followed. This room looked almost the same as the first, except for the furniture. There was an examination table in the room’s center, one chair in a corner and a long counter along one of the walls. Another wall held a painting that was obviously Cheyenne. Black Hawk watched as she raised her lamp and leaned in to look at it.

“Is this you?” Hannah asked after examining the painting. It was a painting of a small boy sitting down in front of a tepee and staring off into the distance.

“Yes. My grandfather painted it during one of our only visits to the People,” Black Hawk said matter-of-factly.

“Humph, I didn’t realize the People painted like the ve’ho’e.”[2]

“They don’t...usually. Not like _that_ anyway, but my grandfather’s mother is a white woman who is greatly admired for her beautiful work,” he said proudly. “It was the reason why she was not killed when she was first captured by my great grandfather. Then he fell in love with her and she with him. She passed on her love for painting to my grandfather. My mother enjoyed it too.”

"Do you paint as well?"

"I am...not so good."

Hannah smiled and looked at the painting again. “Your grandfather learned well. This is wonderful. Are they still living?”

Black Hawk shrugged. “They were last time we went to visit...but it has been many years since then.” He turned toward the counter then and started pulling out what she’d need to sew the cut on his brow, then turned back to her. “Where would you like me?” he asked, knowing that different people worked in different ways.

Hannah turned around. “I think that it would be best if you’d just lie down on the table,” she said as she looked at what he’d taken out. Frowning, she said, “Don’t you have something for the pain?”

He shook his head. “I am not afraid of pain.”

“All right then, hop on up.” Hannah lit the lamp that hung overhead, and wondered how much work was done in this room at night. Then she poured water into a large bowl on the counter and washed her hands before gently brushing his hair off of his forehead to clean his wound. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as she picked up the needle and started stitching.

**~oOo~**

“Finished!” she said. Hannah set her needle down and turned to wash the blood off her hands. The cut had required only seven stitches and he hadn’t flinched once as she worked.

“I don’t think it will scar,” she said as she dried her hands on the apron she’d tied around her waist. He smiled and started to reach up to touch it, but she grabbed his hand.

“You should know better than that,” she scolded.

He dropped his hand and started cleaning up. When he finished, he turned around abruptly. “So, how can I repay you for stitching me up?” he asked.

“Repay me?” She frowned. “Wasn’t I just accused of causing this injury?” she asked.

He grinned. “I suppose it wasn’t really your fault,” he conceded as he reached out and dabbed her bruised forehead with a cold wet cloth, then tilted her chin back so he could get a better look at her neck. “We should clean this...it could get infected. Human bites can be especially nasty, worse than an animal bite sometimes.”

“Humph! And I thought it _was_ an animal bite.”

He smirked slightly. “Sit down here,” he said, patting the table.

She nodded, her eyes fluttering closed as he ran the cold cloth over the bite mark, and keeping them that way even when he blotted her injury with the stinging antiseptic solution, though she did let out a slight moan of pain.

Black Hawk watched her forehead pinch together as he worked and felt bad that he was causing her further discomfort. He knew she was no stranger to pain, but it pulled at his heart nonetheless. When he’d finished cleaning her wound, he dressed it with a sterile bandage, smoothing it over her neck, his fingers lingering on her longer than necessary. He couldn’t seem to help himself.

“Done,” he finally said. Hannah opened her eyes and smiled at him as she reached up to touch her bandaged neck.

“You should know better than that,” he scolded, taking her hand before she could touch herself. Then, abruptly, he turned to put away the jar of antiseptic solution.

Hannah smiled, but lowered her hand. “Seems I just heard those words,” she said as she watched him busy himself. He didn’t respond. She waited for him to finish cleaning. When he did, he turned and faced her.

“How about a cup of coffee and we’ll call it even?” he offered before he could stop himself. He couldn’t believe he was asking her into his father’s home. He hadn’t _meant_ to, but once again, his mouth spoke without his wanting it to.

“Are we not already _even_? I sewed you up, you dressed my wound.”

“I disagree.”

“All right, it’s a deal... _if_ you agree to stop following me around.”

He frowned. “I cannot agree to that. I promised Many Horses that no harm would come to you. Do you wish me to break that promise?”

She sighed and shook her head. “I suppose not.”

“What about that coffee then?” he persisted boldly.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but finally smiled and nodded. “I’d like that.”

**~oOo~**

“I’ll be right back,” he said, after walking her into the front room of his home. They had come in the back way, entering through the kitchen because that was the door that faced the clinic. He had started a pot of water on the stove in the kitchen, but now he needed to change out of his blood-spattered shirt. Slipping out of it, he tossed it aside and picked up a clean one. He quickly pulled it on as he walked back down the hallway, buttoning up the front as he went. As he came into the room, he stopped short to watch Hannah move about the room, the sound of her dress swishing as she moved reminding him of his mother. He closed his eyes as the pain of her absence hit him. She had died a few years before while giving birth; they had almost lost the baby as well.

Black Hawk opened his eyes to see Hannah standing, examining a shirt that hung on the wall; he watched as she ran her hand over the beadwork. “This is beautiful,” she finally said. “Was it your grandfather’s?”

Black Hawk smiled in spite of his pain. “Originally. How did you know?”

Hannah turned to look at him. “The designs are similar to those in the painting of you.”

He nodded, then left the room. “I’ll get that coffee,” he called out over his shoulder. “Have a seat.”

Hannah looked around and then made herself comfortable on one of the couches. After sitting, she picked up a pillow. It had simple designs that complimented the furnishings of the room. It was similar to the ones she had in her own home and she smiled as she pictured it in a tepee that belonged to Black Hawk. She wondered if he had ever lived in one for an extended period of time.

Finally, Black Hawk came back into the room. When he saw where she was, he frowned. For some reason he had expected to see her sitting at the closer end of the room, on the large couch that spanned the length of the wall, or even in one of the chairs placed in the corner. But instead, she had chosen the smaller, more intimate couch that sat by itself in the opposite corner. He continued to frown. Unless he wanted to sit across the room from her, or in one of the dining chairs, he would have to sit next to her.

Slowly, he approached her. After handing her a cup of coffee, he sat down on the tiny couch, but as far away from her as possible, then stared into his own cup. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be close to her or touch her; the problem was that he _did_ want to, and he knew that would be a very bad idea. In fact, just being alone together was dangerous, both to her reputation and his life; in some towns what he was doing was a hanging offense, and he didn’t know if Little Creek was one of them.

They sat in silence for a while, sipping the hot drink and thinking their own thoughts—his centered on what the _hell_ he was doing, and hers on where she wanted to go from here.

“So, where did your father go?” she finally asked to break the silence.

“He had to go to Denver to pick up supplies. With the recent stage robberies, he hasn’t been able to get some of the things he needs.”

“Michael said he’s sent a telegraph to Texas...to get a few Rangers up here,” Hannah said.

“Sounds like a good idea. I don’t like the idea of my sisters traveling around out there with only my father to protect them. It didn’t bother me as much when my brother was around, but now that he’s gone....” He paused and shook his head. “I just wish my father would leave them here with me.”

“ _Your sisters_? I didn’t know you had siblings.”

Black Hawk frowned. “Yeah, Eagle ran off...about three years ago. I think he went to find the People. But my sisters are only twelve and three, and my father hardly ever lets them out of his sight.”

She nodded. “Humph! Sounds familiar.”

“Are you sure you should be here?” he asked nervously. He had no desire to make Jon Cooke angry and he was sure that having his oldest daughter _in the house of a breed_ would make the man more than furious.

“I am not twelve, Black Hawk,” she responded, laying a gentle hand on his forearm.

He frowned again and stared at her hand. He had nearly flinched when her cool hand touched his skin. He had to force himself to relax. “No...you’re certainly not.” He looked up into her eyes and felt his blood rushing through his body. “But what will people think if they see you here. Maybe I should take you back to Michael’s...or the hotel.”

“Who’s going to see me?" She gestured at the closed curtains. "Besides, I don’t really care _what_ people think,” she said as she set her cup on the coffee table and abruptly stood up. She rubbed her arms and paced across the floor. “I think it’s ridiculous how the opinions of a few can infect an entire town.”

“Well, they have. And I think it’s more than just a few opinions...and it’s certainly not just _this_ town,” Black Hawk said, as he sipped his coffee.

“I know that!” It was almost a snarl, though she didn’t intend for it to be, and he knew it wasn’t meant for him. “I have seen what those opinions have done to my _peo-ple_.” She shook her head and clenched her fists. “It is...infuriating!”

He understood her fury; it was something he dealt with daily, stupid, bigoted people, but he frowned. “ _Your_ people?” he questioned, though he knew well who she was talking about. He took another drink of his coffee and glanced up at her again.

She stopped pacing and dropped to her knees in front of him. “Have you ever lived with the People, Black Hawk...for an extended period of time?” she asked, clutching at his empty hand.

He shook his head. “No. Though life has been hard among the ve’ho’e, my mother always insisted we live _here_...for the sake of my father’s business.

She frowned. “That is unfortunate. You have missed much.”

He nodded. “I know...I think that is why my brother went off to find them. But I do not have that luxury...especially now.” He grinned, then downed his coffee and got up. “Are you cold?” he asked, seeing her shivering.

“A little.”

“I’ll build a fire.” He quickly had a fire going and she sat down in front of it. “Better?” he asked. She nodded, but she still looked cold. “How about a blanket?” he asked, turning to go get her one.

She grabbed his pant-leg quickly and smiled up at him. “How about you just sit down here next to me and keep me warm,” she said, releasing him and patting the floor next to her.

Black Hawk’s eyes widened in surprise, but he lowered himself down beside her. When he felt her lean into him, he stiffened slightly, feeling his arm tingle where they touched, and stared into the fire. He wanted to run as far away from her as he could, but at the same time, he never wanted to stop touching her.

“Hannah?” he said shakily.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t think you should be here,” he said. But even as he said it, he turned and took her into his arms and eased her to her back. For a brief moment he stared into her shining blue eyes, then he dropped his lips to hers. He half expected her to push him away, or even to smack him for being so bold, but she only pushed her fingers into his long hair, gingerly avoiding his stitches, and kissed him back urgently, nibbling on his lips and taking his tongue into her mouth with a hunger that matched his own. It took everything he had to leave her lips to find her neck.

“This is insane,” he said as he traced a finger over her bandage. “You don’t even know me." Carefully then, he kissed the swollen skin around the gauze covering her wound. He felt gooseflesh rise as he flicked his tongue over her, nibbling on her neck and ears.

“I _do_ know you. I feel as if I have always known you.”

When she moaned, he knew she was no longer feeling any pain. And as she wrapped her arms around him and pressed herself against him, he groaned and reached for her breast. He could feel a hard nipple through the soft doeskin and dropped his mouth to cover it, his hand running down her side, hoping to find bare skin. He wasn’t disappointed. When he found the beaded hem of her dress, he pulled it up gently, so that he could caress her thigh. Again, he expected her to pull away or slap him, but instead she only arched her back and moaned softly as she pressed her body against him even more firmly. It was driving him mad.

“Oh, woman!” he exclaimed as he suddenly rolled off of her and gasped for breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not?” she asked as she rose to her elbow and placed her hand on his chest. He closed his eyes, then held his breath when her hand slipped under his shirt and ran ever so lightly over him.

“You know why not.”

“Do you not like me?” she asked with a smile as she fluttered her eyelashes jokingly.

He opened his eyes and grinned at her. “You know that I do, but—”

“You should do that more often,” she cut in.

He cocked his head and looked at her in confusion. “More of what?”

“Smile, of course,” she said, pushing back to stand up. “It’s a much better look for you.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “Definitely.”

“Well, I don’t usually have anything to smile about,” he said, sitting up.

“Well, now you do!” She patted his chest, then picked up a lamp and started down the hallway.

“Hannah,” he said, scrambling to his feet and following her. “Where are you going?” He was frowning again.

“Your father’s house makes me curious...I want to see your room.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” he asked. His voice sounded stressed, but she only laughed. Finally he sighed and relented. “It’s the one at the end of the hall.”

Black Hawk stood at the end of the hallway and watched as she glanced into the first bedroom and held up the lamp, then he joined her. “You won’t need this,” he informed her as he took the lamp from her hand and flipped on the wall lamp inside the room. “This was Eagle’s room. My father hasn’t changed it one bit.”

Hannah smiled up at him. “I think your father is still hopeful that his son will return home.”

“I think you are right.”

She turned the light off and asked, “Do you think he will?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps...in time.” He leaned against the wall and hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “He was real bitter after our mother died.” He shook his head. “The doc wouldn’t help her because she was _a savage_. It was hard on all of us.”

“And he thought _your mother_ the savage,” she said angrily. He shrugged again, but she could see his pain and reached out to him. He stiffened slightly as her arms slid around him, but slowly his arms came up to wrap around her as well. He rested his chin on the top of her head and closed his eyes. Just holding her felt amazing.

“What a bastard!” she ground out.

Hearing her curse made him chuckle. She pushed back and looked up at him.

“How can you laugh?”

“I’m not laughing about what happened. That doc’s definitely a son of a bitch. I’m just laughing because you’re...cute.”

She smiled, then moved to the next door. It was the washroom. “You have a full washroom!” she exclaimed.

“And electricity in here too,” he said as he flipped on a light over the basin. She grinned. Not many people had such luxuries. “My father made sure my mother had everything...he felt guilty about taking her away from her people and felt the need to compensate.”

Hannah frowned then. "And does your father's examination room have electricity too?"

When Black Hawk nodded Hannah placed her hands on her hips and glared up at him. "And you let me stitch you up without proper lighting?"

He grinned. "I liked having you that close to me," he said with a shrug as he drew her into his arms and kissed her again.

Hannah's lips curved up as she kissed him back, then she pushed him back gently and moved on. She looked into his father’s bedroom next, and then his sisters’. Finally, she pushed open his bedroom door and stepped in. He followed her, setting the lamp down on his dresser.

“I’m sure this is nothing compared to that bedroom you must have on the Circle C,” he said as he leaned against the wall just inside his bedroom door.

She turned and smiled up at him. “My _bedroom_ on the C _is_ larger, but we do not have electricity there...or indoor plumbing for that matter. But...I live in a tepee,” she said. “Which, I think, you already know, don’t you?” He didn’t answer, but even in the low light of the lamp she saw a blush on his copper-toned face. She had been fairly sure she’d seen _something_ disappear into the trees that surrounded the ranch. And the footprints she had found...they _were_ his. But she hadn’t known for sure until now. “I knew it!”

“I thought I was being careful,” he said, shaking his head.

She grinned. “I am not just any old white girl, Black Hawk. I lived with the People for seven years. I am a very good hunter... _and_ tracker.”

“I should still be able to follow you without you knowing it.”

She shrugged. “You should have covered your tracks. I did not decide to come after you until I saw them...though I noticed other things.”

He ran a hand through his hair and sat down on his bed. “My grandfather would be disappointed in me.”

She moved to stand in front of him. “No he wouldn’t,” she whispered, taking up his hand and placing it on her waist. “You did not grow up with the People, Black Hawk. He would understand. I never found where you camped,” she offered, hoping to placate him.

He scoffed and, for a moment, could only stare at his hand on her waist, then he looked up at her and frowned. “ _Hannah_?”

“Shhhh,” she said, putting a finger to his lips. “And no frowning,” she said as she straddled his legs and slanted her lips over his. He kissed her back and ran his hands up her sides, bringing one around to cup and squeeze a breast while using the other to hold her firmly in his grasp. She squirmed and rocked against him as he slid his hands down over her bottom. For a moment he was surprised to feel her bareness, but quickly remembered that Indian women wore nothing under their dresses.

“We should stop,” he whispered, but dipped to caress her again, this time reaching her moist center. Sliding his fingers through her folds, he listened to her moan, then worked them against her womanhood until she began to writhe and cry out. He held her as she trembled, then shuddered her release, and he continued to do so until she stilled.

“I want you now,” she whined. Her climax had come quickly, much faster than she thought possible, but she still wanted more.

“Oh...Hannah. I want you too.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and breathed into her hair. “But...are you sure?”

“Oh...yes,” she panted, pushing herself off of him to untie her dress. Black Hawk watched her dress drop to the floor, just as he had through the leather of her tepee, and in his dreams, and then he smiled as she worked each of his buttons one at a time. He liked that she was an experienced woman with whom he didn’t need to be careful. He didn’t think he’d know how to handle her if she weren’t.

“I like your smile,” she said, pushing his shirt off his shoulders and running her hands over his bare chest. Then she leaned forward to kiss him and rub herself up against him. He had to grit his teeth to keep from throwing her to the bed and taking her on the spot. He smiled when she moved on to his belt, but he stopped her when she reached for his pants. He had to take off his boots.

“Last chance to change your mind,” he offered as he started unbuttoning.

She shook her head. “Now _that_ wouldn’t be very fair, would it?” she teased, and watched as he peeled off his pants. She smiled when she finally saw him hard and ready, his manhood long and thick and eager. She was so ablaze with need that she couldn’t resist the desire to reach out and touch him. As her fingers closed around him, and he groaned with the pleasure of it, she gently pushed him backward onto the bed and crawled up beside him. A brief wave of pain rolled over her as she thought about the man who had taught her how to please a man, then she pushed the memories away and took the man before her into her mouth.

Black Hawk groaned and tossed his head to the side. He couldn’t believe he had this woman in his bed, or that she was actually doing what she was doing, that she actually had her mouth enclosed over his swollen member, sucking gently yet firmly. It had been so long since he’d felt a woman’s touch—since he’d had a woman period. The women in his life had never been ones he could love. They had always been saloon girls that only did what they did for a price. But this—this was something else. Hannah was here of her own accord. It seemed like he’d been waiting forever for this moment—for her, though he hadn’t even known he was waiting.

“Stop,” he finally whispered, pushing her away. “You have to...stop...or I...I won’t be able to...to....” He was panting now and he couldn’t think straight, but he managed to pull her face up to his even though she was resisting. Slowly, he ran his tongue over her lips, tasting himself on her, then he pushed her back just enough to pull back his bedding and push her down onto his sheets. Once she was on her back, he pushed her breasts together and took first one nipple, and then the other, into his mouth, sucking hard and then spreading gentle kisses over the puckered tips. Wanting to touch every part of her with every part of himself, he kissed his way over her middle while he ran his dark hands over her lightly tanned skin. When his fingertips came to the scars on her side, the ones she had received from the Pawnee warrior’s arrow, he moved to kiss her there as well, and slid his hands down to spread her legs. She moaned softly when he kissed his way down her belly and through the fine, blonde curls between her legs. Using his thumbs to open her to him, he dipped and tasted her. She sucked in her breath and squirmed against him; the pleasure was almost painful and he knew it. He teased her by lightly flicking his tongue over her place of pleasure until she began to whimper, then he latched on and sucked in earnest. She cried out her release, speaking his name in Cheyenne, then begging him to come up to her.

“ _Please_ ,” she whispered, her eyes glazed in pleasure.

He nodded and moved over her, and she arched to receive him. He held back only a moment longer, then, finding her wet opening, he plunged into her.

“Ve’otse’e,” he whispered into her ear, driving into her again. She responded by arching sharply to receive him again. She wanted all of him. She took all of him.

“Ve’otse’e,” he said again, causing her to buck nearly hard enough to throw him off of her. She wrapped her legs around him to pull him closer, deeper. Her breath was taken away as he plunged again and again and again.

“ _Ve’otse’e_!” he called out loudly as he leaned into her and spilled his seed. With her legs still wrapped around him, holding him in place, he pumped spasmodically, then groaned and collapsed on top of her.

**~oOo~**

The sun was coming up when Hannah rolled over to see Black Hawk staring at her. She smiled and reached to touch his face.

“I thought I was dreaming,” she whispered.

He smiled back at her. “So did I,” he said, taking up her hand and kissing it. “Are you hungry?”

She smiled mischievously as she slid her hand from his to caress his chest. Then, bringing it lower across his belly and to the trail of dark hair that led to the part of him she wanted, she nodded. “But not for food.”

He grinned and pulled her to him, and _this time_ they took their time.

**~oOo~**

They had fallen back to sleep, and when they awoke again, he’d asked her the same question. “Are you hungry?”

This time she shrugged. “Not really. What time is it?”

“Somewhere around seven,” he guessed.

She pressed her hands into her face and groaned. “I’d better go,” she said, sitting up. “Michael’s going to have a fit.” She picked up her wrinkled dress and frowned. “And he’s going to know _exactly_ what I’ve been doing when he sees my dress.

Black Hawk jumped out of bed. “I’ll walk you back.” He didn’t want to let her out of his sight.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

“Maybe not, but if you have to deal with it, then so will I.” She smiled and nodded.

**~oOo~**

Michael was sitting at his desk trying to fill out paperwork to get at least one of those Texas Rangers up into Colorado Territory when Hannah and Black Hawk came through his office door. Though her note had told him not to wait up, he had expected her back shortly after suppertime, and he had worried well into the night. He had been up half the night pacing his office and making rounds around town, but he could find her nowhere. He had finally returned home to get some sleep, but it had been after two in the morning and now he was red-eyed and irritable.

Glancing up, he frowned at the two of them. He wasn’t very happy to see them together so early in the morning, and even less pleased when he took in the state of her dress.

“Rough night?” he asked, then scowled at Black Hawk. The man was supposed to be _protecting_ his sister, not seducing her. He shook his head when neither one of them said anything. “Maybe you should go upstairs and change while I have a word with Black Hawk.”

“No! You can’t send me off like you’re my father,” she said hotly.

“Like hell I can’t,” he returned. “This is my place of business. My deputies could come in any time now. Do you _want_ them to see the way your dress looks?”

Her chin came up defiantly. “I do not care.”

“And who knows how many others saw you on your way over here,” he went on with a frown of frustration.

“I don’t care who...” she began, but paused when Black Hawk placed a hand on her arm, hoping to calm her. But then she shrugged it off. “You clearly got my note, Michael, or you would not have even known I was here.”

“Yeah,” he said gruffly. “I got it!”

She exhaled loudly. “It said that you should not worry...that I would stay at the hotel if it got too late.”

Michael raised a brow. “And did you?” he asked with a frown, not really wanting to know.

She glanced at Black Hawk, then back at her brother. “No...but that’s not the point,” she said, pushing her hair off her face.

Michael’s eyes widened. “My _God_ , Hannah, you’ve been fighting again, haven’t you?” He stood up and came around his desk to examine the bruise on his sister’s forehead.

“It wasn’t my fault, Michael!” she snapped and flinched away from his touch. “I didn’t mean to be fighting. I was leaving Kelly’s Mercantile...out the back door, and I was walking toward the hotel when I was attacked. I had to defend myself.”

He sighed and, ignoring her protest, he grabbed her shoulder and used his other hand to tilt her head back so that he could see the bruise more clearly. Then he saw the bandage on her neck. Frowning, he pulled it back and stared at the bite mark there.

“What the hell’s this?” he demanded, glaring at Black Hawk. Black Hawk opened his mouth to reply, but Hannah beat him to it.

“Oh stop it, Michael!” she fired out angrily as she jerked herself out of her brother's grasp and pushing the bandage back on. "Black Hawk did not do that!”

Michael sighed and rubbed his burning eyes in frustration. Then, leaning against his desk, he glanced up at Black Hawk. “You didn’t happen to be anywhere near this attack, did you?” he asked, trying to guard against Hannah finding out he’d been having her followed.

“Of course he was _near_ ,” she said through clenched teeth. “After all, you’ve been having him tail me. Do not think I haven’t noticed. I know when someone is following me and spying on me. Do you think I learned _nothing_ while living with the Indians?”

Michael blinked, then backed off. “I was worried Hannah. Should I ignore that someone’s been trying to hurt my sister?” She frowned and shook her head. “And I suppose we still don’t know who’s coming after you?”

“I don’t know _who_ they are, Michael,” she said with a shrug.

“Now it’s _they_?” He looked at Black Hawk.

Black Hawk nodded. “There were two of them this time. And no, I didn’t know who they were either,” he said, scratching his head in frustration. “But then...I don’t frequent many establishments in town, so what do _I_ know? Maybe you ought to find Hannah another body guard.”

Hannah’s head snapped around and she glared at him. “Absolutely not!”

Michael sighed heavily and looked at the two of them hard. “So, now I have _two_ attackers to worry about, _and_ the fact that the two of you are...are....” Michael stopped. Black Hawk shifted on his feet and Hannah glanced away. “What am I going to tell, Pa?” he asked his sister.

Hannah’s eyes quickly swung back to her brother. “Nothing, Michael,” she replied. “I _am_ a grown woman, you know.”

“But you’re living in Pa’s house.”

Hannah laughed. “No, I am not. I live in _my own_ house, remember? Pa still won’t let my children in _his_ house...and until he does, I do what I want.”

“Hannah, you’ve _always_ done whatever you wanted...and it hasn’t gotten you anywhere. He’s still making the rules and you’re still fighting him. He’s wrong to keep your children out of the house, but you can’t run around town acting like a freelance saloon girl.” Hannah opened her mouth to comment, but Michael held up his hand and continued.

“It looks bad and you know that causes problems for the family...and I don’t just mean for Pa. It makes my job difficult; how can I be the law in this town if I can’t even control my own sister?” Hannah frowned. “And what about Magen?” he went on. “Chances are someone’s going to think she’s _just like her sister_.” He glanced from Hannah to Black Hawk and then back. “Not that there’s anything wrong with...with you, Han.” He stopped. “I’m just worried that someone’s going to attack _her_ , just because she’s related to you. And _she’s_ not going to know how to defend herself.”

Hannah’s frown deepened, making Michael think that he was finally getting through to her. He felt a moment of relief, then, hearing voices outside his office, he quickly looked back at Hannah. “Now, _please_ go upstairs and change your dress,” he said, tossing her the key to the doors of his home.

Hannah caught the key in one hand, but she was upset again. She didn’t like that he was telling her what to do, or that there was such a double standard when it came to women’s behavior versus that of men. It was _wrong_. She wanted to argue, and she might have, but Black Hawk took her hand. “Let’s not make this a war, Ve’otse’e,” he said. She frowned, but finally nodded and followed him to the doorway and the hall that led to her brother’s house.

Michael was relieved.

**~oOo~**

Black Hawk waited while she opened the door, then he stepped through it after her. He could see that they were in Michael’s living space. He watched as Hannah dropped the key on the kitchen counter, then headed through the room to the stairway. He followed her up the stairs to the second floor and into a nice-sized bedroom with matching twin beds.

Once there, Hannah picked up her mother’s carpetbag, rummaged through it, and pulled out the other dress she had brought to town with her. Without thinking, she untied her dress and let it fall to her ankles.

Black Hawk, who was still standing in the doorway, winced audibly and took the few steps to reach her. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her up against his chest.

“I want you,” he whispered in her ear, then nuzzled her neck as she turned to face him.

“I can feel that you do,” she said with a grin as she brought her lips up to meet his. “I want you too.” She reached for his belt. “We will have to be quick.”

Black Hawk frowned. Wanting her and having her at this very minute were two very different things. They could get caught. “But...your brother...” he said between kisses. “He could come up...at any moment...and catch us. I think we’re...already in enough...trouble.” He eased her back from him slightly.

“Michael will be busy with his deputies for at least a few minutes,” she said, unbuckling the belt and going for the button closure of his pants. He grinned at her daring as she stepped back and reached for her dress. “I will put this on and hike it up and you pull those down,” said with a nod at his lower half. She already had the dress halfway on.

“I’m not so sure about this,” he said, but didn’t resist when she started to help him again. Once his pants were pulled down—just enough—she smiled at him as she eased him onto the bed, pulled her dress up and climbed on top of him. Black Hawk gasped as her warmth closed over him, and he groaned when he felt her inner muscles tighten around him. For a moment, he held her still, wanting to savor the feeling of her. But then she started to move on him, using her whole body to push them toward climax. He shuddered with pleasure as her legs clamped around his waist and thighs, and when she worked her hips, he struggled for control. It wasn’t easy.

Holding her waist and moving with deliberate torpidity, Black Hawk fought against the urge to let himself go. She felt so right on him; like no other. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been with a woman before, but she was different. She moved him in a way that no other had; something about her made him lose himself in her. It was like nothing he had felt before and he felt powerless.

Slowly, he moved within her, then pulled himself almost out of her before pushing deep inside once again. And then he paused and held her still again, just so he could stare at her. He watched her face, her eyes were glazed over, her cheeks and neck flushed with passion. He listened to the sound of her panting and watched as she fought to focus on him. His heart was pounding in unison with hers. And when she grasped his shoulders almost painfully, trying to find her own measure of control, he didn’t even seem to notice it through his own pleasure. She felt so good; he knew that he couldn’t take much more of this. Sliding his hands to her backside, he cradled her against him and let her resume her movement. With a moan, he closed his eyes and buried his face in her neck.

And then, thinking he heard the downstairs door open and close, he grabbed her hips and thrust himself up into her. She cried out then, not caring who might hear and in that second they were both satisfied. They had only a brief moment of rest, before they had to straighten themselves up in a hurry. Hannah quickly smoothed down her clean dress, then threw open a window. She finished none too soon.

 

When Michael came into the room, he frowned at them. Black Hawk was sitting on one of the beds. Michael thought he looked slightly flushed and more than a little guilty. He narrowed his eyes and set them on Hannah. She was folding her clothes and putting them in her bag, but he didn’t miss that her neck and cheeks were pink. _Damn_! he cursed silently. What have they been doing up here? But he didn’t mention it to them. He was confused enough as it was. And he _was_ pleased to see that she had changed, though he wanted to ask her _where_ she had changed. He decided not to, however, figuring that he wasn’t going to get an answer he would like.

“I’ll take you home,” he finally said, picking up her packed bag and starting for the stairs. Hannah and Black Hawk followed him.

**~oOo~**

Michael watched as Black Hawk handed Hannah her knife. As she reached around and slipped it into its sheath at her back, they never broke eye contact. There was no way he could miss the loving look that passed between them, or the fact that his sister blushed when Black Hawk’s hand touched hers. For a moment Michael’s stomach curled in disgust and embarrassment. Blushing himself, he glanced around to see who might be watching them; a few people were. He scowled at those gawking, causing them to quickly turn away, but his blush deepened when he looked back at his sister and the man helping her. Hannah’s eyes were shining as she watched Black Hawk slip her carpetbag into her horse’s pannier, then turn back to face her. For a moment the two just stood there staring at one another. It was as if there was no one else there but them. Quickly realizing that they might stand there staring at each other forever, Michael took a step forward to help his sister to her horse. He didn‘t have a chance to assist, however, because Black Hawk, taking her by the waist and quickly settling her on Whirlwind’s back, beat him to it. Michael blinked in surprise. It had been done with such practiced ease that it seemed the two were of one body, like they could read each other as if they had always been together.

And then, with her sitting astride the way few women did, Michael watched Black Hawk adjust her Indian-made stirrup before putting her foot into it. He frowned when he saw the other man’s hand linger on Hannah’s ankle longer than was necessary, then move to pet her horse. And finally he saw their eyes meet again and realized that this was not just a passing fancy.

Glancing around again, Michael could see that some people were still watching, but that most had gone back to their own business, and he couldn’t help but ask himself what had _really_ embarrassed him—the fact that people might see his sister with an Indian, or that he naturally felt repulsed by it. He didn’t like either conclusion. Why should he be embarrassed either way? His whole life he had grown up hearing savage stories about Indian attacks and what white people, women in particular, had suffered because of them. But he also knew that the stories went both ways, that the Indians had suffered at the hands of the white man as well. And _this_ was the man who had promised to protect his sister and he was doing just that. Should it matter that the man was part Indian, or that feelings were developing between him and Hannah? he asked himself. All that was truly important was that Hannah was safe—and that she was happy. And she certainly looked happy.

“Until next time,” Michael heard Black Hawk say to her.

Hannah smiled at him, then nodded. “Yes...next time,” she said eagerly.

Michael frowned and looked from one to the other, then went to his own horse. He didn’t know what to say or do, but he did know that he needed some time to think. As much as he’d like to, he couldn’t just change his whole way of thinking, not in just one moment anyway.

 

[1]. Ve’otse’e – Warpath Woman

[2]. ve’ho’e - white man


	25. Chapter 25

** CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE **

“Look who I found,” Michael said as he rounded the corner of his parent’s house and walked toward his sister. She was hunched over a deer hide that she had staked to the ground, but she turned at her brother’s voice.

“Black Hawk!” she exclaimed. Brushing her hands on her dress, she stood up and smiled, but regarded him suspiciously. It was the Saturday after the incident in town and she hadn’t seen him once, or found any evidence that he’d been on the property, since that day. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was...out on the road...and I ran into Michael and Gracie. He invited me to come out with them.”

“Oh he did, did he?” she said with a frown. “ _Out on the road_ , huh?” Hannah glanced at Michael, but he only grinned at her. “And what are you going to tell Pa?” she asked, hands on her hips.

“Nothing! After all...you’re a grown woman,” he said, throwing her own words back at her.

“Very funny, Michael!” she snapped. “You are _not_ a funny man.”

“Which is it...either I’m funny or I’m not?” Michael smirked at her and then laughed as Black Hawk grabbed her about the waist and pulled her to him.

“Are you not happy to see me?” Black Hawk asked Hannah, feigning upset.

“Oh! Oh yes,” she said, placing her hands on his chest and looking around nervously. She didn’t need her father to see them embracing; it was already strange enough that her brother was standing there. “It’s just that...my father...he may not be very pleasant to deal with.”

Black Hawk nodded his understanding. “I know. I can handle it...if you can,” he challenged.

“Oh, I can handle it,” she whispered, wishing they were alone in his house again. “But we need to be careful.” She glanced at her brother and shook her head; he was grinning from ear to ear. “You should not be enjoying this so much...or you might find three permanent visitors living in your house.”

Michael only laughed again. He had spent the last few days thinking about his sister’s relationship with the half-breed, and after arguing back and forth with himself, he had finally sought the counsel of a friend, who had only shrugged and asked if he really wanted to lose his sister _again_. That was when he’d finally relented, deciding that he’d do whatever it took to welcome Black Hawk into the family, including inviting the man over to the ranch, despite their father’s feelings about Indians, because having Hannah happy, and at home, was far more important than rejecting her choice of a man and possibly losing her again.

**~oOo~**

“Ma, I’d like you to meet Black Hawk,” Hannah said nervously.

“Ma’am,” Black Hawk said as he extended his hand. He somehow sensed that this would be all right, that Hannah’s pretty, blonde mother was the type to like just about anybody.

Mary flashed her husband a quick look, then smoothed the front of her dress and smiled as she placed her hand in the younger man’s. “It’s nice to meet you as well, Mr. Hawk. And please, call me Mary.”

“It’s Black Hawk, Ma,” Hannah corrected, then glanced at her father. So far, he hadn’t said a word, but he didn’t look at all pleased. She looked back at Black Hawk and continued the introductions.

“And this is my father, Jon Malcolm Cooke,” she said stiffly.

“Sir.” Black Hawk tilted his hat in greeting, but did not hold out his hand. He knew it would not have been taken and wanted to avoid making things even more awkward than they already were. For a moment, there was only silence, and Hannah waited, hoping her father would respond, but when he didn’t she looked to her mother for help.

Mary took her daughter’s hand and squeezed it gently, then smiled at Black Hawk. “Well...we haven’t had many dinner guests lately,” she said brightly. “It will be quite nice to have you here for dinner, Black Hawk. Won’t it, Jon?” she said, elbowing her husband.

All eyes turned to look at him, but he only scowled, then turned on his heel and headed for the house. Taking the front steps two at a time, he wrenched open the screen door and entered the house. With a slam of the heavy wooden front door, he was gone, leaving everyone staring after him.

Mary sighed, then looked back at Black Hawk. “If you will excuse me, Mr. Black Hawk,” she said, forgetting to leave out the mister, then she followed her husband.

**~oOo~**

Mary opened and closed the front door quietly and went directly into her husband’s study. She found him standing at his liquor cabinet, key inserted and turning.

“ _Jon_?” she said, coming up to stand close to him as he pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a tumbler, and poured himself a drink. “Please come back outside. We have guests.”

He looked at her hard. “ _Guests_?”

“Yes,” she said with a nod. “Michael brought Gracie out to see Magen...as well as Mr. Black Hawk. Didn’t you see her?”

“What was that boy thinking?” he demanded angrily, ignoring his wife’s question. “Bringing that _breed_ here when he knows how I feel about them damned savages.” He shook his head in frustration, then lifted his glass to his mouth and emptied it in one quick gulp.

Mary watched him down his drink and then she sighed. “ _I believe_ he was thinking about someone else...someone who, I suspect, feels quite differently than you do.”

Jon turned quickly to face his wife. “What are you talking about, Mary?”

Mary tried not to smile; it would only anger him further, but she could not hide her amusement fully. “If I am not mistaken, and I don’t think that I am, I would say that our _daughter_ likes this young man.” She watched as her husband’s eyes flew open, fire flashing through them.

“Oh no! Not again!” he moaned, shaking his head and turning to pour himself a second glass of whiskey. “I will _not_ have my daughter with another _Injun_. I won’t have it!” he hollered at her.

“ _Please_ , Jon, she’s our _daughter_. Couldn’t you at least _try_ to be understanding?” Mary asked. “Can’t you see that she has feelings for this man?”

Jon sat down on his couch and dropped his head into his hands. “Why is she doing this to me... _again_?” The pain in his voice was evident. He still hadn’t recovered from the way she had run away seven years before—and now _this_.

Mary knelt in front of him and took up his hands. “She’s not doing this to hurt you, Jon.”

“No? Then why the hell’s she doing it?”

“She can’t help who she has feelings for any more than we could when we were young. Don’t you remember what it was like to be young and in love?” she asked him, squeezing his hands lovingly.

He frowned. “Of course I remember, Mary. I’m not _that_ old. But that was different, we were...we _are_ of the same kind.”

“The same kind?” She frowned.

“Yeah! White! She already has those two damned half-breeds...why’s she want things to be even more difficult?”

“Damn it, Jon!” Mary cursed back at him. That got his attention; Mary wasn’t so inclined to curse, unless she felt strongly about something. He watched her stand abruptly and pace the floor in front of him. “This is ridiculous! Tonight,” she said, stopping in front of him and waving a finger in his face, “We’re having supper as a family and I’m inviting Mr. Black Hawk to join us.”

“I do not want that _Injun_ in my house,” he snarled as he stood up and hovered over her. “None of them!”

Mary usually didn’t argue with her husband; she normally didn’t have reason to, but this was getting out of hand. Placing her hands on her hips, she glared up at him and stood her ground.

“I’ve had just about enough of this! Those _half-breeds_ are my grandchildren, my flesh and blood, _our_ flesh, damn it! I will not stand here and listen to you insult them.” She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts; Jon didn’t dare interrupt. He may be the man of the house, but he did respect his wife. “And they _are_ coming into the house tonight, Jon. We are all going to eat, as a family, in _our_ dining room, and you _are_ going to be present! Do you understand me?”

For just a second he considered arguing, but the look in her eyes told him that she would not bend—not on this one, anyway, so he gritted his teeth and gave a clipped nod. Then he watched as she smoothed down her dress, the way she always did, and walked out of the room.

**~oOo~**

All eyes turned on Mary as she stepped from the house. For a moment, she lingered on the porch, looking over the assembled group, but then she descended the steps, smiling pleasantly at all of them: her seven children and two grandchildren, and their two guests. For the most part, life had been easy for the Cooke family. True, they had had some hard times, but there had never been anything they could not overcome. This would be no different.

“Magen, honey,” she called. “Would you and Gracie take Hannah upstairs please?” Magen frowned, but nodded and went to her sister. The three younger women made their way for the house, watching as Mary herded the four children and ushered them inside as well. Just before disappearing she turned and looked at her sons. “Would one of you bring out some lemonade?” She saw Michael stand, then she slipped inside.

Mary noticed immediately that the study doors had been closed and she hoped her husband was not having another drink. She wanted the evening to go well and she didn’t want alcohol to interfere. She considered poking her head in, just to make sure, but then she changed her mind; it would only anger him and she was sure she had already pushed him to his limit.

“Where are we going, Ma?” Hannah asked, once they had reached the top of the stairs and she saw that her mother intended on taking Little Porcupine and Little Snowbird into the playroom.

“While I settle the children, _you_ are going to change your clothes,” answered Mary. “And no objections! I will say to you what I said to your father. _Tonight_ , we are all going to eat as a family, in the dining room, and you’re going to be present...all of you. And, _you_ are going to change into a proper dress...just for tonight,” she finished, almost pleadingly.

Hannah took on the same argumentative look that her father had had, but she too caught the resolve in her mother’s eyes and the sadness in her voice. “All right, Ma.”

Mary smiled. “Now, you go get dressed and I will see to the children.” Hannah frowned, but her mother shooed her away. “Go on.”

**~oOo~**

Hannah stood just inside her old bedroom, with the other two women a few steps ahead of her, looking around in wonder.

“It looks exactly the same,” she said with a frown, before going to her bed and running a hand over the blue print bedspread.

“After you left, Pa had a few things repaired,” Magen said, referring to the items her sister had broken in her anger. “And then he locked up your room. It hasn’t been opened up until now...well, except for once a month when Ma comes in to clean. But then it’s always sealed up tight again. No one else has been allowed to come in here.” She handed her sister the key to the room and smiled. “I have to admit though...that I’ve been sneaking in here for years. I thought it might make me feel closer to you.”

Hannah smiled. “Did it work?”

Magen shrugged. “Sometimes I thought it did. Nothing was the same without you and everything felt strange. Pa wouldn’t let us mention you,” she said sadly. “I’ve just missed you so much, Hannah.” Tears coursed down Magen’s cheeks.

“I missed you too, Magen.” Hannah reached for and hugged her sister. “But I’m home now...and I don’t think that I’m going anywhere.” She smiled.

“Good!”

**~oOo~**

“That dress looks quite nice on you, Hannah,” Gracie said with a smile.

Hannah looked at herself in the mirror, turning from side to side to see the dress from all angles. It was the blue and white gingham dress that Michael had given her the day she had returned and it fit her perfectly, hugging her womanly curves and showing off the swell of her breasts.

“I’d say Michael is a good judge of size,” she said. “Did your mother make this dress?”

Gracie nodded. “A young woman passing through town ordered it, but didn’t want to buy it when mother was finished.” Gracie waved her hand and frowned. “Something about needing to leave town...maybe it wasn’t appropriate for traveling.” She had never been out of town herself, so she didn’t know anything about such things.

“I’ll say,” Hannah quipped as she turned toward Gracie and Magen.

“Anyway, my mother was pretty angry about doing all this work for nothing. Then you appeared and your brother came in the shop and offered to buy it. Mother was thrilled that her work wasn’t wasted after all.”

Hannah smiled. “And how _is_ your mother, Gracie?” she asked, remembering that the younger woman’s life wasn’t an easy one.

Gracie shrugged. “Fine, I suppose. She works much too hard,” she said with a frown, knowing that her mother’s condition made sewing quite difficult. “I try to help her, but I can only do so much. But now that school is over, I should be able to do more for her.” She paused for a moment. “If only my father would...do his part,” she said sadly. Magen gave her friend a sympathetic hug. Everyone knew that Gracie’s father was the town drunk, but people didn’t like to get involved in the affairs of others.

“Anyway,” Gracie went on, “that dress is perfect for you; it enhances the blue of your eyes.”

“As well as the rest of you,” Magen giggled. “I sure hope I look like _you do_ after having two children.” Hannah only shook her head.

**~oOo~** (halfway point) **~oOo~**

^^this is in here for me (sorry)^^

Hannah came down the stairs and entered the front room beside Magen and Gracie. She was already nervous, feeling naked in her new dress, and undergarments, despite the fact that she had more material covering her now than she had before. But when everyone turned to stare, she blushed crimson, thinking that she’d have felt no less awkward had she come out with nothing on.

Her eyes focused on Michael first, since he was the closest. He was engaged in a game of chess with Hunter and stood up when the three ladies came into the room, as did the rest of the men in the room.

Hannah looked at Black Hawk then. He had been sitting on the couch beside Michael, but now he was standing, his gaze locked on her. He looked more handsome than ever, she thought as she felt her heartbeat quicken. She glanced then at her father. He was standing at the far end of the room, having a drink with James and frowning at her.

“Well, don’t you look lovely,” Michael said as he approached. “I guess my choice was a good one.”

Hannah ran a nervous hand over the front of her dress and smiled. “This was indeed a good choice. Thank you, Michael.”

“Think nothing of it.” He waved his hand dismissively, then leaned forward and hugged her. “To be honest, I didn’t think you were ever going to put it on, but I’m pleased to see that you did.”

“As am I,” Black Hawk said, almost under his breath, as he stepped forward. Hannah smiled up at him. He had removed his hat and his long, black hair was hanging free. She liked it best that way and had to resist the sudden urge to run her fingers through it. Instinctively, she took a step toward him, but was startled when her father cleared his throat.

“Are we going to have supper any time soon?” he demanded. Hannah looked over to see her mother standing in the dining room doorway.

“ _Yes_ ,” she said, almost glaring at her husband as she untied her apron and removed it, “Supper is ready. If everyone will come sit down, we can eat.”

“Well, it’s about time!” her husband commented dryly.

**~oOo~**

Hannah and her children followed everyone into the dining room and watched as they all moved to their places. Her father was at the head of the table on the far end, just where he’d always sat, and Michael sat at the head of the close end.

The first seat on the far side of the table was empty, but the next belonged to Mary, because it was close to the kitchen. But she would not sit until everyone else was settled. The third chair was Katie’s, then there were four empty chairs, one of which had always been Hannah’s, and then finally, Robbie sat to the right of his father.

And on the side closest to where Hannah was standing, Gracie sat between Michael on the end and Magen in the second seat. And Hunter sat next to her. Finally, after three empty seats, James sat in the second seat that was nearest their father.

After seeing everyone seated, Hannah noticed that Black Hawk was standing just to her side, not quite sure what he should do. It was then that Mary came and ushered him over to sit beside James. That left only three seats next to one another on the far side, so Hannah motioned for Little Porcupine to follow, then took her daughter’s hand and walked around to her usual place, which happened to be directly across the table from Black Hawk. Glancing up at him, she smiled nervously, then let her eyes settle on her father.

“Whose turn is it to say the blessing?” Jon asked gruffly, trying hard to ignore the smile that passed between his daughter and the breed.

“Mine!” Katie quipped happily. Everyone grasped hands and bowed their heads and waited for the child to begin:

 

Thank you for the world so sweet,

Thank you for the food we eat,

Thank you for the birds that sing,

Thank you God for everything.

Amen.

 

“Amen,” everyone chorused.

Jon smiled at his youngest daughter. “That was nice, Katie,” he said as he picked up the plate of meat and began forking some onto his plate. He only looked up when Mary cleared her throat.

“I was thinking that... _maybe_ Mr. Black Hawk might like to say a few words as well,” she said, smiling down the table at their guest. Jon stared at her for a moment, then pursed his lips and poked the serving fork into the meat before turning narrowed eyes on Black Hawk.

Black Hawk’s troubled eyes went from Mary to her husband, and then to Hannah. She was watching him closely and gave him an encouraging nod.

“All right,” he said. “Here goes:

 

Ma’heo’o, netâhaoena’tovâtse.

Hahoo, netâhetâtse

he’tohe mahtame

tseto’semesetse.

Nâhtapavêhone’anone.

Hena’haanehe.[1]

 

He smiled at Hannah, then glanced at her father; he was scowling. His smile faded.

“What the hell...”

“ _Jon_ ,” warned Mary.

“...was that?” he finished with a pound of his fist on the table, which rattled everyone’s place-settings and startled the children. All eyes stared at him. “We speak _English_ in this house, son! Not some damned heathen—”

“Jon! That’s enough!” Mary said, rising to her feet, leaning her fists on the table and glaring at her husband. Now everyone was looking at her, and _Jon_ was glaring right back at her, wanting her support, but not getting it. He forced himself to relax. When he had, Mary looked at Black Hawk and smiled pleasantly. “Maybe you could translate that blessing for us...so we all know what you said.”

“Yes, of course,” Black Hawk said, looking only at Hannah’s mother. “Literally...what I said means, God, I’m praying to you. Thank you, I tell you for this food that we are going to eat. We will be clothed well _with it_. The end.”

Mary’s smile widened. “Well, isn’t that nice, Jon?” she asked.

He gritted his teeth. “Can we eat now?” he asked impatiently. She only nodded.

**~oOo~**

“So, Mr. Black Hawk,” said Mary, as she set her glass on the table, “What is it that you do?”

Black Hawk had been lifting his fork to his mouth, but he paused. “I work with my father at the animal clinic,” he replied.

Jon coughed. It took a moment to clear his throat enough to speak. “Your father is Dr. Walker?”

“Yes sir.”

“I suppose then...that I should be calling you Mr. Walker,” Mary said, picking up her glass again.

“Black Hawk is just fine with me, Ma’am,” he said with a smile, then emptied his fork.

Mary nodded. “I will try to remember that...but only if you will agree to call me Mary,” she said with a smile. “No need to be so formal.”

He frowned. He knew his father wouldn’t approve; married women weren’t usually referred to by their first names, it was not polite. But, it was what she seemed to want. He nodded.

“So, are you a doctor as well then?” Mary asked, once her mouth was empty again.

Black Hawk shook his head. “No Ma’am...ahhh, Mary,” he corrected himself. “I just help out.”

Jon finished off his last bit of food and looked up. “Help out with what, exactly?”

Black Hawk shrugged. “Paperwork, charts, surgeries, stitches...putting animals down. Whatever my father needs help with, sir. Even looking after my sisters and tending to household duties.”

Mary smiled. “Well, that sounds respectable. How ever did you learn such things?”

“Hands on, Ma’a...Mary. I’ve been doing all those things since I was just a boy...’cept for taking care of my sisters. My mother always did that part...before she passed on.”

“Oh...I’m so sorry about your mother, dear,” Mary said sympathetically.

Black Hawk shrugged again. “It’s been a few years.” He glanced at Hannah, then down at his plate. “Death is something we all have to deal with...eventually. Some of us just sooner than others.” Hannah looked down then too, to hide the tears in her eyes.

Mary smiled grimly. “Too right you are, Black Hawk. Too right you are.”

Jon glanced at his wife, then back at their _guest_. “If you’re doing all those things for your father, why don’t you go off to school...to learn properly?”

Black Hawk frowned. “Actually, Sir, I did spend several years back east in Boston, living with an uncle and going to college there. But honestly, I’m not sure there’s much of a point of becoming a doctor. At least not to live here; most folks in Little Creek don’t want _a breed_ working with them, even if it’s just on their animals.”

Jon nodded. He could understand the man’s thinking. “Then why stay here, if the _folks_ are so off-puttin’?” he asked, wishing the man would just disappear so that he wouldn’t have to deal with him, and so that Hannah might have a chance to attract some other man—a white one.

Black Hawk shrugged. “I came back to help my father with my sisters. I _had_ planned to go back to my uncle’s, but then my brother ran off, so I decided to stay on. I do like working with the animals...just not the townspeople.”

Jon frowned. He’d wager that the townspeople preferred it that way too. He knew _he_ felt that way. “Why not find some other kind of work, then? There must be _something_ you can do...independently.”

Hannah looked up quickly and frowned. Her father was making it sound as if Black Hawk’s life had no purpose, and it made her angry. Taking a sip of her wine, she looked down the table at her oldest brother.

“Michael, why don’t you tell Pa what _other kind_ of work Black Hawk does.” Michael stared at her for a moment, then set his fork down and looked to their father.

Jon looked from his daughter to his son. “Michael?” he prompted.

Michael took a deep breath and rubbed his chin. He didn’t like being put on the spot, but he could see how this might look to their father and why his sister had spoken up. “Well...ahh...I have had call to hire Black Hawk...occasionally...for protection.”

Jon eyed the breed, then looked back at Michael. “Protection? From what?”

“Well, you know,” Michael said, waving a hand, “sometimes there’s trouble in town and I need an extra man. Black Hawk’s been kind enough to be that man when I’ve needed him. And he’s pretty good with his fists too.” Michael looked at Black Hawk and grinned. “That helps with those saloon brawls,” he said, thinking about the day Black Hawk had pulled Hannah out of the clutches of some drunk man in the Main Street saloon...and the other occasions that the man had been there when Hannah had needed him, and vice versa; they seemed to be a good pair.

“Well, sounds like you’re quite a busy man,” Mary said as she lifted her glass once again.

Jon narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t help but think they were keeping something from him, but as he glanced from one to the other, he could detect nothing to suggest a lie.

**~oOo~**

After eating, the women began clearing the table, the children went outside to play and the men decided to go out onto the front porch to smoke. It was the usual routine, though Hannah had been away from it for a while, but it made her nervous.

As she had watched the men leave, her father going first, with her three brothers and Black Hawk following him, she wondered what they would be talking about and why her father had so readily agreed to allow Black Hawk’s presence among them. She had expected him to go off alone, leaving Black Hawk with her brothers.

“You can put those plates here,” Mary instructed, indicating the sink full of soapy water. Hannah and Gracie set them down, then Gracie went to get more. Hannah stood there staring.

“Relax, Hannah,” her mother said, patting her eldest daughter’s arm. “He’s not going to take a gun to him.”

Magen giggled as she entered the kitchen with Gracie and another armload of dishes. “You sure?” she asked jokingly.

“Magen, this is not funny,” Hannah said with a frown. “I am nervous.”

Magen grinned. “ _That’s_ a first!”

Mary looked from one daughter to the other and sighed. “All right. I’ll do this later. Let’s go outside and join the men before it’s time for our guests to leave.” She dried her hands and pushed her daughters toward to doorway. “Go on....”

**~oOo~**

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Black Hawk finally asked her. They were sitting on the front steps alone now, after having spent some time talking with her family. Black Hawk had learned that the Cookes weren’t such bad people, though he was still quite unsure about Jon Cooke. The man was completely unfriendly, choosing to ignore everyone by sitting at the opposite end of the porch with a smoke dangling out of his mouth and a scowl on his face.

With a glance at her despondent father, Hannah smiled up at the man. “Yes, I would like that,” she replied. They stood and headed west, along the fencing that bordered the north side of her father’s property, and in sight of the house, and watching eyes.

“I like your family.”

She scoffed. “Yes, my father is very... _welcoming_.”

He smiled. “I was not referring to him,” he said with a shake of his head. “Your mother is amazing, your brothers are very nice, your sisters are sweet, and your children are enchanting. _Your father_...now he is challenging.”

She laughed. “Thank you...you are very kind. And you have done well...you have been very brave...to put up with all this. They all like you...except for my father, of course, and that is not your fault.”

He grinned and glanced back at the house. “Do you think he is watching us?”

“Most definitely,” she said with a smile. “They _all_ are, I am sure of that.”

“So, I cannot kiss you?”

“It is probably not such a good idea...if you‘d like to survive your trip out here.”

“Then I will sneak back and kiss you later, when no one is watching us.”

**~oOo~**

“Bye-bye Michael,” Katie called out as she waved wildly to her brother.

“Good night little sister,” Michael returned, then waved to everyone else as he and Gracie rode out. Black Hawk rode on his own horse beside Michael’s wagon, but turned and signaled his own goodnight. Hannah watched Gopher follow them to the property line, then stop and howl a complaint. Hannah’s whistle brought him back. She hunched down to pet her animal, then turned to walk back to the house; Gopher was at her heels. She stopped in front of her mother.

“I am going to change now...then go to bed.”

Her mother frowned. “But it’s still early, Hannah. Still light even.”

Hannah glanced at her children, playing chase in the growing darkness of dusk. They didn’t look very sleepy, but _she_ was. “Nae’ha,[2] nahtona,[3] nenaasestse.[4] Naesekahaneotse.”[5] They groaned, but immediately walked to their mother’s side. “I’m sorry, Ma, but I’m exhausted.”

Mary looked her daughter over and frowned. “I can see that. I think this supper was hard on you. Why don’t you let the children stay inside tonight? I’ll take care of them so you can rest.” She smiled as if it was the perfect solution. And it could have been, but for the dark look on her father’s face telling her that he wasn’t happy about it. He was more than unhappy, and chose that moment to turn and enter the house. Hannah looked then at her children; they had clearly understood what their grandmother had said and they both looked hopeful.

“I don’t know, Ma...” she started. She nodded toward the house. “ _Pa_....”

“Oh posh!” Mary exclaimed. “This is my house too...and I say they’re staying inside tonight. Come along, children,” she beckoned. Robbie and Katie quickly went up the steps, but Little Porcupine and Little Snowbird only stared at their mother.

For a moment, indecision wrinkled Hannah’s brow, but the hopeful looked on her children’s faces finally made her cave. “Oh all right, go on.” They both smiled and followed the twins, the four of them, giggling as they ran into the house.

“And what about you?” Mary asked.

Hannah held up her hand and shook her head. “I will be fine. Would you send Magen out to get this dress? I would rather not keep it in my lodge.”

Mary nodded and tried to smile. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in?” she asked hopefully. “Your bed is calling out to you.”

“I am sure. Good night, Ma.”

Mary watched her eldest daughter as she walked away. “If you change your mind...” she called out.

“I won’t, Ma. But thank you. Supper was wonderful. And thank you for making Black Hawk welcome.”

“Good night, daughter,” she returned sadly.

**~oOo~**

Black Hawk had ridden with Michael and Gracie until they were well into the dense stand of trees that separated the Circle C from town, and then he bid them farewell. He watched their wagon until it was out of sight, then circled back, moving off the wagon trail and into the trees for cover. When he got closer to the house, where the trees were farther apart, he slowed and moved more cautiously. Heading toward the Cooke pond, then crossing the stream that fed it, he dismounted, leaving his horse in its usual spot, then made his way toward Hannah’s tepee. Her fire burned low; he saw no movement inside. He frowned, wondering what he should do, then sat down to wait. He didn’t have to wait long. Within moments, the flap of her tepee opened and she stepped out; she was wearing her doeskin dress once again. He watched as she looked back and forth, then behind her up at the house before picking up something and moving through the trees toward the river.

“Hannah,” he whispered, after following her into the cover of trees.

She spun around. “Black Hawk,” she smiled. “I wondered if you would come back.”

He grabbed her and pulled her up against him. “I said I would.” He fanned his hands on her cheeks, then bent to kiss her. She moaned when his tongue slipped inside her mouth, and offered hers in return. When he broke the kiss, she leaned back slightly.

“And now you’ve had your kiss...so you can go,” she teased, pushing out of his grasp and continuing on to get water at the river. He followed.

“Not so fast,” he said, grabbing her wrist and spinning her around again. “I want another.” He gave a gentle tug and to him she went again. This time his kiss was not so gentle.

“Come back to my lodge,” she said in between kisses.

With a frown, he leaned away from her. “What about the children?”

“My mother has taken them into the house for the night,” she said with a grin.

“And your father?”

“He has most likely locked himself in his study...with his best bottle of whiskey. He will not come out again tonight.” She paused. “Will you come to my lodge?”

He smiled and kissed her. “I will help you get water first.”

“I do not need water.” She kissed him back. “I only came out to look for you.”

“But we must make it look good.” He kissed her again. “Just in case,” he said as he took her water bags from her. “Come!”

Hannah followed him to the river where they filled her bags, then sneaked back to her tepee. She went in first, carrying the water and looking around for any eyes that might be watching. Not seeing any, she signaled Black Hawk to follow. Crouching down, he entered behind her.

“What now?” he asked, sitting across from her.

She moved to her furs and gave them a pat. That was all the encouragement he needed.

**~oOo~**

Just before dawn, Black Hawk rolled over and kissed Hannah’s tousled hair. Her eyes opened immediately.

“Is it morning?” she asked him, propping herself up on her elbow.

“Almost.” She watched as he stood up and pulled on his trousers, then sit down again to slip into his moccasins. “I’d better go,” he said, leaning over to place a kiss on her forehead.

She nodded, then wrapped her blanket around her naked body and stood up with him. “Will I see you at the social next week?” she asked.

He frowned; he never went to the town’s social events. “You will see me before. Here.” He wound his arms around her and kissed her lovingly. She moaned, then looked up at him.

“No,” she objected. “We cannot meet like this everyday...someone will see.”

“No one caught us last night.”

She raised a brow. “We were just lucky. Besides, someone still could. You have not gotten out of here safely yet.”

He sighed. He knew she was right. “Then I will see you at the social.” He said it as if being present at the social would put him out. She frowned.

“You do not have to come, if you do not want to. There will be others with whom I can dance.”

Jealousy instantly sparked. The idea of her dancing with others did not sit well with him. Searching her face, Black Hawk caught the twinkle in her eyes and knew her serious look was an act. He could tell that she truly wanted him at the town social. Sighing again, he nodded. “I will come,” he said reluctantly.

She grinned. “Promise?”

He frowned.

She pouted.

“Oh, all right,” he relented. “I promise.”

Her pout dissolved instantly. “Good! I will see you there,” she said, leaning forward and standing on tiptoe to kiss his mouth. “Now go...before we are caught.”

#  [1]. “Cheyenne Thanks For Food Prayer,” Cheyenne Language Pages (Cheyenne Prayers), Online: 28 August, 2006, Available: [_http://www.fortunecity.com/victorian/song/1147/prayers/thanksgiving.htm_](http://www.fortunecity.com/victorian/song/1147/prayers/thanksgiving.htm). There is a function to actually listen to the prayer.

[2]. nae’ha – my son

[3]. nahtona (nâhtona) – my daughter

[4]. nenaasestse (nenáasêstse) – come here

[5]. Naesekahaneotse (Náéšekâhaneotse) – I’m tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure why that link at the end is so large. Lol. It's not in my Word doc. *sigh*


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting..I've gotten caught up in the Outlander series on Starz, so I've been busy watching the show (four seasons in two weeks)...and now reading the books (book one when it's light enough to see...and book five when the lighting is low and I have to use my Kindle)!

** CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX **

“Come now, Hannah, why don’t you ride in the surrey with your brothers and sisters,” Mary suggested when she saw her oldest daughter leading her horse from the barn.

Hannah eyed the vehicle as she neared, quickly deducing that it wasn’t large enough to hold all of them. That suited her just fine; she preferred her horse anyway.

“Thank you, Ma,” she said politely, “but I don’t think there’s enough room for three more. The children will ride, but I’ll ride Whirlwind.”

Mary frowned. “But you’ll get dirty.” It was almost a whine.

Hannah shrugged. “It can’t be helped, Ma. I will just have to dust myself off once we get to town.” Then, seeing that her mother was going to object again, she added, “A little dust never killed anyone, Ma. I will ride.”

Mary glanced up at her husband, who was standing there waiting for his family to be ready to go. She expected him to object to their daughter’s plan, but he only crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. This was only one of very few family outings and she didn’t want it to be spoiled. She turned back to watch as Hannah lifted her son and daughter up to Magen, who settled Little Porcupine in the back beside Robbie and Little Snowbird next to Katie in the center seat, then she moved forward to get in herself, her two sons quickly coming forward to assist her.

Little Porcupine squirmed as he tugged at the choking collar of the stiff shirt his grandfather had insisted upon, while Robbie grinned at his discomfiture. The boys were wearing store-bought navy trousers, with matching vests, and stark-white, overly starched, button-up shirts that Mary had made for them. Hannah had to admit that her son looked rather handsome, though he did not think so. He had wanted to wear his more comfortable leggings and breechclout, but Hannah hadn’t wanted to argue with her father. Plus, it would make a better impression on the townspeople if they showed up wearing more civilized clothing. She did, however, allow him to wear his own moccasins, insisting that the shoes that had been purchased for him were not the right size. He was already quite big for his age, standing nearly three inches taller than Robbie and promising to be a tall man, just as his father had been. The boy’s feet fit his stature.

Little Snowbird, on the other hand, sat next to Katie smoothing the _prit-teebloo_ dress that her grandmother had made for her. Her dress, which was identical to Katie’s, was long and full-skirted, and made an amusing crinkling noise that caused Little Snowbird smile every time she moved. And she moved a lot—just to hear the sound. Little Snowbird also liked the _poof-fee_ sleeves and the large bow tied at her back, and all the lacey undergarments that went with the dress. She didn’t seem to mind the constricting clothing at all.

Hannah smiled up at her children, hoping the afternoon and evening would go as planned. It was Saturday and there was to be a fancy social in town, and she was more than a little nervous about it. She knew people didn’t like her because of her association with Indians and she was worried about how her children would be received, not to mention the fact that she desperately wanted to spend time with Black Hawk during the evening. All in all, she was wound up tight. Her only saving grace was that her father had reserved five rooms at the LeGrande Hotel, since it would be too late to return when the event had finished, so at least there would be somewhere to go and hide if she felt like she needed it. Even though she had been to church several Sundays in a row now, this somehow seemed different to her. Being around all the townspeople in this new setting _could be_ more than she could handle.

Hannah ran her hand over the knife she had hidden in her dress and hoped her father wouldn’t notice the extra bulge. She felt utterly naked without her usual clothing on, but she had switched from one of her doeskin dresses to a two-piece outfit of midnight blue taffeta to make things easier—on her family, at least. The top of her dress, a long jacket trimmed with lace at the neckline and on the large flounced sleeves, was slightly bustled in the back, and was overlaying a matching floor-length skirt. It would make her look like everyone else, but she could hardly wait for the evening to be over so she could take it off. She couldn’t help but think that the evening was going to be very long. She just hoped that Black Hawk would be there, as he had promised; a dance with him would make her day. Actually, just the sight of him would, she thought.

After the younger children were situated, Hunter climbed up to sit next to their father. Hannah noticed that he and James were dressed in similar gray shirts, vests and trousers, but that Hunter’s attire was a shade or two lighter in color than their older brother’s. She remembered then that James preferred more of a charcoal gray, and _that_ made her think about her dead husband—he too, liked charcoal gray. She blinked back tears as she remembered the dark warshirt she had once sewn for him. Blinking rapidly, Hannah tried to focus on the here and now, on her family, on her brothers. They both look very handsome, she thought, trying hard to push away the pain and smile. When her mind cleared, she saw that James had come to assist her onto her horse.

“Want help?” he asked. He knew his sister was perfectly capable of leaping onto Whirlwind’s back without any assistance when she was dressed appropriately, but one look at her told him today would be different.

Hannah glanced up briefly at her saddleless horse, then down at the dress she wore. Smiling, she looked at James and nodded. “I suppose I will need some help,” she said.

James grinned at her, then grabbed her about the waist and lifted her gently to Whirlwind’s back. “Do you really think you’re going to need that?” he asked, leaning in and lowering his voice.

“Perhaps.” She patted the slight bulge in her dress and thought about the few times she had been glad she’d had her knife. “You never know what will happen out there...I need to be prepared.” He only nodded. Michael had been keeping him informed and he couldn’t argue with her reasoning, though he didn’t plan on letting her out of his sight on this evening—unless someone else was watching her.

“Are we finally ready?” Jon Cooke asked impatiently, looking suspiciously from Hannah to James. He couldn’t hear their conversation, but he didn’t like secrets, especially when it came to this daughter of his. When everyone nodded, he snapped the reins in his hand and turned his horses toward town.

**~oOo~**

They stopped at the livery first, where they deposited the surrey and horses, then headed down Second Street toward the grassy knoll behind the Main Street restaurant. As they passed the shops on the way, Hannah glanced around, hoping to see Black Hawk, but he was either busy doing something else, or keeping himself hidden, as he usually did.

Jon could hardly miss his daughter’s roaming eyes and knew she was looking for the breed. He hadn't liked having the man on his property, let alone in his home, but Mary had finally put her foot down, insisting that he be more accommodating to their daughter’s heart. No, he hadn’t liked it one bit, but he acquiesced because it seemed he was the only one objecting.

“I’ll meet you there,” he finally said. “I’m going to check us into the hotel, then go buy a few cigars.” Mary nodded. “I expect you boys to escort these lovely ladies over to the social.” James and Hunter nodded, hearing what their father was really saying; _make sure there’s no trouble_!

**~oOo~**

Black Hawk had spent a little extra time getting ready, even going so far as purchase a new pull over shirt for the occasion, and now he sat in a chair, letting his sister brush out his hair.

“Do you want me to braid it?” she asked him.

“No.”

“But it’s going to blow into your face.” She started to part his hair.

Black Hawk thought about Hannah; he knew she liked it loose. “No,” he said firmly.

“But—”

“ _No_ ,” he repeated. Lilly frowned, but dropped her hands and watched him.

Black Hawk squirmed and pulled at the banded collar of his shirt. He’d chosen the shirt because of the color, steel gray, but the collar was annoying.

“Sit still,” she scolded him.

“I can’t,” he said as he unfastened the top button. He just didn’t like it so tight; it was stifling.

“Stand up.” Lilly commanded as she set the brush down. Once he was standing, she began tugging on his shirtsleeves to smooth out any wrinkles. She was smiling while she worked, but frowned when she looked up at him. “You can’t go to the social with your shirt open.” She reached up and rebuttoned it.

His hands immediately flew back to his collar. “Why not?”

“Because, it’s unseemly.” She smacked his hand away when he tried to undo the button again.

“But it’s choking me,” he complained as he fidgeted.

Sighing her frustration, Lilly asked, “Do you want them to think you’re a savage?”

He snorted. “They already do, naaxaa’eheme!”[1]

Lilly shook her head. “Not everyone does, I hear.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. She only shrugged. “ _Lilly_?”

“Are you going to ask Miss Cooke to dance, nahtataneme?”[2] she had asked him.

Black Hawk’s head snapped around and he glared at their father. “You _told_ her, Neho’e?”[3]

Daniel lowered the book he was reading to his youngest child and looked over his spectacles. “She asked why you suddenly wanted to attend a social when you’ve never wanted to before. What was I supposed to tell her?”

Black Hawk shrugged.

“I didn’t think telling her would upset you, Nae’ha.”[4] Black Hawk frowned, but before he could comment, Lilly spoke.

“You need to tuck in your shirt.”

“Why? I always wear my shirts like this.”

She let out a long exasperated sigh. “Because Mo’ohtaveaenohe,[5] that is the way it’s supposed to be worn.” She paused. “Besides, you will ruin the look if you don’t. Why bother buying a new shirt if you’re not going to wear it correctly. It’s a waste of money.” She grabbed the hem of his shirt and started shoving it into the waist of his pants.

“Hey! Watch it!” He pulled away from her.

Their father chuckled as he listened to them. “Esemahe[6] is right, Nae’ha. Tuck in the shirt.”

Grunting his frustration, Black Hawk finished the job his sister had begun, then held up his hands. “Better?” he asked sarcastically.

“Much,” she returned with a grin as she plopped into the nearest chair. “That color really shows the gray in your eyes.”

He grunted again. That was why he had purchased it. He hoped Hannah noticed.

**~oOo~**

And now, Black Hawk stood on the fringe, just out of sight but close enough to enjoy the music and watch the townspeople. They looked to be having a good time, talking, laughing, dancing, eating and drinking. And they seemed so different, compared to the busy, uptight people he saw every day in town. They even looked friendly. He wished he could feel as comfortable as they appeared, but he was not used to these things; he had _never_ gone to a social before, and that’s usually the way the people liked it. He knew they wouldn’t want him at this one, but he had to be here; Hannah would be attending and he’d told her he would come. He just hoped he’d have the nerve to actually step out of the shadows when the time came.

And so he waited and watched, and drank the glass of lemonade he’d managed to swipe when the woman passing out drinks was distracted with some rambunctious children that had run by. He’d left money to pay for it on her table, but now he wished he’d gotten himself a real drink; a whiskey at the moment would be a hell of a lot more relaxing. He wondered if he had time to shoot over to his uncle’s saloon, then remembered Uncle Harry wasn’t open today, that he planned on coming to the social as well.

Black Hawk sighed and ran a hand through his hair. How long had he been waiting? he wondered. It certainly seemed like forever. Part of him was starting to believe she wouldn’t come. Maybe something had happened, making it impossible for her family to attend.

And then a chill ran up his spine and he knew, instantly, that she was there, though he had not seen her coming. It had been just a feeling, but when he felt it, he looked up and there she was. She was beautiful. His breath caught in his throat as he watched her.

**~oOo~**

When they arrived, Hannah noticed that it was already pretty crowded. There were people everywhere. Some were eating or having a cool glass of lemonade and others were dancing or standing around talking. She saw a few familiar faces, including the preacher and his wife, Gracie and her mother, and Mr. and Mrs. Kelly. Hannah scanned the crowd looking for Abby and frowned when she didn’t see her anywhere. It didn’t seem like her friend was even trying to get involved, and that made her sad because she didn’t know how she could help.

Looking around again, Hannah also saw the town’s two deputies, Jake and Billy, and hoped her brother would be able to make it later on in the day. And she was also hopeful that she’d see Black Hawk at some point during the day as well, though she had no idea whether he enjoyed these things. Probably not, she mused, considering how he’d reacted when she’d asked him to come. He clearly hated this stuff. So did she. But, she had told him she’d be there and she hoped he’d come too, just as he’d promised.

“Would you like to dance?” James asked, holding his hand out to her and smiling.

She looked nervously around the crowd of people and frowned slightly. The musicians were playing a slow waltz and there were couples dancing on the makeshift dance floor that had been constructed the day before for this very event. She hadn’t danced in several years and wasn’t sure about being here, let alone dancing around the center of the floor for everyone to see, but she answered by taking her brother’s hand and allowing him to lead her onto the floor. Many people stared as they walked through the crowd, causing Hannah to clutch tightly to James’ hand.

“Relax, Hannah,” he said as he stopped on the dance floor, placed a hand on her waist and began leading her around. “You were always a very good dancer...nothing’s changed there.”

She smiled nervously. "People are staring."

"Only because you are the prettiest girl here."

“Why thank you, big brother,” she said with a small laugh. “Though I hardly think that is why they stare.”

As they danced along with the music, James noticed that she seemed distracted. She danced smoothly, allowing him to move her around the floor, but her eyes were constantly searching the crowd. He couldn’t help but smile.

“He’ll be here, Hannah,” he finally said, grinning down at her.

“Huh?” She looked up at him with a frown. “Who?”

“Black Hawk. That’s who you’re looking for, isn’t it?” She blushed. He saw right through her. “He’ll be here,” he went on with a grin.

“What makes you think so?”

He shrugged slightly. “Because _you’re_ here,” he said, still grinning. “Do you really think he’d miss a chance to dance with you in public?”

Hannah’s blush deepened, but her eyes shined brightly as well.

“What do you think of him?”

James shrugged again. “If you like him, then I like him.”

Hannah smiled. “Really?”

He nodded.

“You did not like Windwalker,” she pointed out.

He snorted. “I was young and stupid then...besides, you did not give me a chance to find out whether I liked him or not.”

“True. But...what’s your point?”

“My _point_ , sister dear, is do _you_ like him?”

Hannah blushed again, then nodded. “I do...I like him a lot. But what am I going to do about Pa?” she asked. Despite the relatively pleasant supper she had shared with Black Hawk in her parent’s home, painful memories flooded her thoughts. Could it _really_ work?

“That _is_ quite a dilemma.” He remembered all too well the hell that had broken loose the last time their father objected to her choice of a man. “You’re not going to kick, scream, and curse, then run away again, are you?” he asked jokingly. Her answer was more serious.

“I don’t want to, James. I did not want those things last time,” she said sadly. “All I ever wanted was for Pa to except Windwalker for the man he was...the man I loved. He could not do that...so I ran. And now I want the same thing...for Pa to accept my choice. Do you think it’s possible this time?”

James squeezed her hand as he led her around the floor. “We’ll think of something, Hannah,” he said, then narrowed his eyes. “Just don’t think about running off again. Running won’t solve anything, it’d just hurt people.”

Hannah frowned, but nodded as she did so; he was talking about their mother and sister. She now knew that running away had deeply hurt the ones she loved, as well as herself, but she had been young and in love and at the time she had believed it was the only thing she could do.

“I will not leave,” she said quietly. “I promise.”

James smiled down at her just as the song ended. They clapped, along with everyone else, then headed over to get some lemonade. There were a few people standing there, including Michael’s two deputies.

“Good afternoon, Hannah. James,” Billy said.

James nodded and tipped his hat. Hannah smiled at the two men. “Billy. Jake,” she said sweetly.

Both men grinned at her. “Would you like to dance,” Jake asked.

Hannah glanced at James to get his approval, then nodded and allowed Jake to lead her away.

**~oOo~**

Black Hawk watched Hannah leave the dance floor with James, then return with one of her brother’s deputies. It made his stomach twist with jealousy. He wanted to march in there and rip her out of the other man’s arms, but he knew doing that would only make people angry. So instead, he let the dance come to an end, then he stood up and walked through the crowd, stopping just behind her. When she’d finished clapping and turned around, she gasped.

“Are you having fun?” he asked her.

“Black Hawk!” she exclaimed. “You are here.”

“I said I would be.”

She smiled. “I did not see you.”

“I saw you.” His voice was even, but jealousy radiated from him.

“And now I see _you_ ,” she countered pleasantly.

“Well, are you?” he asked impatiently.

“ _Hannah_?” Jake cut in protectively. He looked from Black Hawk to Hannah with a frown. “Is everything all right?”

Hannah blinked, then looked at the other man. “Oh yes, Jake, everything is just fine.” She smiled. “Thank you for the dance.”

Jake continued to frown, but nodded and slowly moved away from them. Hannah and Black Hawk watched him go, then looked back at one another.

“Well?” he prompted.

“I am now,” she answered and smiled as Black Hawk extended a hand.

“Care to dance, or is your card full?” he asked.

“Of course I want to dance,” she said as she slipped her hand into his.

**~oOo~**

“What the hell is she doing with _him_?” Jon demanded when James finally reached him.

James glanced at the dance floor, then back at his father. “She’s _dancing_ with him, Pa.”

Jon’s face reddened. “I know damned well _what_ she’s doing, James Harrison Cooke! What I _want_ to know is _why_? I think I made it clear that there was to be no trouble.”

James looked at his sister again, then shrugged. “I see no trouble.”

“Damn it, James! That man’s a _breed_!” he snarled under his breath.

James looked over at his mother nervously. She and Magen had taken the four children to get lemonade and cookies, but they were on their way back now. “So are your two grandchildren,” he quipped.

Jon’s face got even redder, if that was possible. “Jesus Christ! What is _wrong_ with you people?! I want her off that dance floor and away from that man! Now! Before people start talking.”

James glanced around. Some people were staring while his sister danced with Black Hawk. Others were watching his mother as she lovingly, and completely without embarrassment, cared for her half-breed grandchildren. Some were frowning their disapproval. Some were trying to hide whispers behind their hands. A few weren’t being all that discreet about their comments. But most were ignoring them, and _none_ had asked them to leave.

“Ah come on, Pa, she’s just dancing with him.”

“Yeah...that’s all they’re doing right now, but give her time and she’ll run away with the bastard.”

James shook his head. “That’s not fair, Pa. Hannah didn’t _want_ to run away before.”

“Are you saying that her leaving was _my_ fault?” Jon ground out.

James shrugged. “I’m just saying that, if you want her to stay put, then you might try being more understanding.”

“ _Understanding_?” Jon practically sputtered. “Who the hell do you think—”

“Is there are problem?” a male voice cut in.

James turned around to see Michael standing there and he sighed with relief. He wasn’t in the mood to go head to head with their father. He’d never been very good at it.

“I want that man arrested,” Jon demanded as he stabbed a finger in the air in the direction of the dance floor.

Michael didn’t even bother to look. Instead he gave his father a hard stare. “For what exactly?”

“He’s touching my daughter inappropriately.”

Michael fought the urge to roll his eyes. If only his father knew. “Pa, they’re just dancing. I can’t arrest the man for dancing with your daughter.”

“Why the hell not? He should have asked my permission first.”

Michael frowned. “So you would have said yes then?” Michael challenged.

“ _Hell no_! What kind of stupid question is— _”_

“Well then, now you know why he didn’t ask for permission. Besides...if I arrest _him_ for dancing with her, then I have to arrest Jake as well.”

"And me too," James quipped.

Jon’s face reddened as he glared at his grown sons. “Are you going to arrest him or not?”

“Arrest who?” Mary asked, coming up behind her husband with the children.

Jon spun around. “ _Him_!” he practically yelled, pointing again. A few people turned to stare so he lowered his voice. “Well, are you?”

“No Pa, I can’t arrest someone who’s done nothing wrong,” Michael repeated.

Magen glanced at the dance floor. “Oh stop it, Pa. Black Hawk is nice,” she whined.

Jon’s eyes opened wide. “How the hell would you know?”

“ _Jon_ ,” Mary warned. “Don’t you curse at her.”

“I talked to him, Pa,” Magen said innocently, “when he was at the ranch. He seemed nice to me. Besides, Hannah clearly likes him.” She turned to look at her sister, who was grinning from ear to ear. The rest of the Cookes looked too. “Look at her, Pa. I mean, _really_ look at her. Doesn’t she look happy?”

Jon looked, but he didn’t like what he saw. “But it ain’t right!” Jon insisted. “He’s a half-bre—”

Mary’s hand shot out and smacked his arm before he could finish. “Don’t you dare say it! Not in front of the children. I don’t want you infecting them with your prejudiced ways.” She turned then and smiled at Magen. “Would you mind terribly, sweetie?” she asked, nodding toward the table full of desserts.

Magen glared at her father, then looked at the children and smiled. “Who would like another cookie?”

“I would,” they said in unison. Magen gave her father one last look of contempt, then ushered the children off.

Mary waited until her middle daughter had led the others out of earshot, then she turned on her husband. “I will listen to no more of this, Jon! You may not agree with everything that happens in life, and contrary to what you may believe, you do _not_ have a say in everything. Let Hannah have her evening. She’s clearly having fun. That young man seems to be quite a gentleman, not the savage you insist he is. And stop using the word _breed_...it was different, _though only slightly_ , when your grandchildren could not understand English, but now they do. Your prejudice will only alienate them and our daughter...do you really want that?”

Jon looked from his wife to his two oldest sons, then, his face red with anger, he walked off.

**~oOo~**

Jon sat on a bench smoking a cigar, just far enough away from the dance that he didn’t have to talk to anyone. He had stormed away after being ganged up on by his family, and now he was considering the turn of events. He had been secretly pleased when his daughter showed up on his ranch, but now—he didn’t know. Did she _really_ expect him to accept another Indian for a son-in-law? Couldn’t she just choose one of the other men in town? He knew that her choices were limited, considering the fact that she had two half-breed children, but there had to be _someone_ who’d take her—someone other than the breed. What’s so good about the man anyway? he asked himself.

Sighing, he blew out a lung-full of smoke, then put the thing out on the ground beside him. He’d just have to show her she had other choices.

**~oOo~**

The sun had finally gone down and the dance was in full swing, but they needed the rest; they had been dancing nearly nonstop since they had come together. He had practically refused to share her with anyone else, conceding only a few times when one of her brothers had come to cut in. Black Hawk hadn’t liked it one bit, but there was nothing he could do about it; they were her brothers. And he hadn’t liked it any more when his own father had asked for a dance with her, but he had acquiesced then as well. He knew he had no real right to prevent her from dancing with others, but for the first time in his life he felt like he had something that was his and he had no intention of losing her. And the best part was that Hannah didn’t even seem to mind how utterly possessive he was being. And then, at the first chance he had seen, when he had taken the opportunity to pull her clear of the festivities and she had grinned up at him with delight, he was glad to have her alone, though he wished he had done it sooner.

“I was hoping to meet your sisters tonight,” Hannah said as she sat down on the bench next to him and slipped her hand into his. They were far enough from prying eyes, but still close enough to see everything, and hear the music.

Black Hawk smiled at her. “They are both here.”

Hannah frowned. “Oh? Where?”

It seemed to take quite an effort, but Black Hawk tore his eyes from the woman sitting in front of him and looked around, then nodded his head toward the lemonade table. “They are there, with my aunt and uncle and my father. Lilly _loves_ lemonade. She mixes it with tea. Star is asleep. My aunt holds her.”

Hannah followed his gaze, then smiled. “Can I meet Lilly?”

He nodded, but made no move to get up. “Your hair...it is different,” he commented with a frown as he reached up to touch the curls at the nape of her neck. His touch sent a shiver over her skin and raised gooseflesh. “It is...longer than I thought it was.”

Hannah grinned. Her hair was parted in the center, then pulled back at the top and sides and arranged in a tight knot, which was hidden under the small hat on the crown of her head, her long ringlets cascading from it.

“ _What_?” he asked with a frown when she didn’t say anything.

“My hair is _not_ this long,” she said. “It is a hairpiece.” She pulled out a few pins and took off her hat, her curls coming with it. “See?”

He stared at her hat for a moment, then watched as she secured it back on her head. “Women wear such strange things.”

She laughed. “Have you not seen a woman wear one of these before?” she asked him.

He shook his head. “I had no idea. Now I will wonder every time I look at a woman if her hair is real.”

“Well, don’t get too used to it,” she said as she slipped the last pin in place. “I don’t plan on wearing it once my own hair grows back. And I only wore it tonight because my sister did my hair and I did not feel like arguing with her.”

He smiled. “I understand. My sister brushed out my hair tonight too.

Hannah smiled and reached up to finger his loose hair. “It looks nice.”

“ _You_ look nice,” he complimented. “I have never seen a prettier dress...or a prettier woman.”

She blushed. “Well, thank you...but don’t expect me to start dressing like this either. This dress may be pretty, but it is the most uncomfortable contraption I’ve ever had the misfortune to being forced into wearing.” She squirmed in discomfort.

“Forced?”

She almost snorted. “Ma and Magen insisted. They even dressed me,” she said with contempt. “It was most undignified.”

Now he laughed.

She frowned. “Why do you laugh?”

“Lilly had a hand in my dressing today as well. I did not like it either.”

Hannah nodded, but leaned back some to get a better look at his shirt. “That color is good on you. It brings out the gray of your eyes.”

“That is what Lilly said.”

“What did Lilly said?” came a girl-voice from a short distance away. They both turned to face it; it was Black Hawk’s twelve-year-old sister. Hannah smiled, but Black Hawk looked mildly irritated.

“That his shirt goes well with his eyes,” Hannah replied.

“Yes, I did say that.” Lilly grinned at them.

“ _This_ is my sister,” Black Hawk put in. Hannah smiled at her.

Lilly nodded and pursed her lips in greeting, then frowned down at her brother. “And he was most disagreeable about that shirt this afternoon,” she continued as if Black Hawk hadn’t spoken.

“So I heard,” Hannah quipped, trying to hide an indulgent smile.

“He told you that, did he?” she asked with a shake of her head as she insinuated herself on the bench between them.

Hannah nodded just as Black Hawk cleared his throat. “Would you two like lemonade?” he asked them. They both nodded. He had known what his sister’s answer would be, and though there was nothing he wanted to do more than tell his sister to take a hike, he got up and hurried toward the refreshment table. They watched him for a moment, then looked back at one another.

“My name is Lilly,” the girl finally said when her brother was out of earshot.

“I am Hannah,” she said as she held out her hand.

Lilly looked her up and down, then put her small hand in Hannah’s larger one. “I do not have to call you Miss Cooke?” she asked. Her mother had always insisted that she be proper in every way, and her father had continued the tradition after her mother had died, not that it helped her much in Little Creek.

Hannah shook her head. “Of course not. That is...too formal. Please call me Hannah.”

Lilly brightened, if that was possible.

“Your dress is very pretty, Hannah.”

“Why thank you...but, just between us,” Hannah whispered, “it’s not very comfortable. I would rather wear doeskin.”

Lilly’s eyes widened. “You would?” Hannah nodded. “I have never worn a doeskin dress. My mother always insisted I dress like the other girls in town.”

Hannah nodded. “I understand. That has probably made your life easier. If my father had _his_ way, my doeskin dresses would probably be burned and I'd be sewn into a dress like this one.”

Lilly giggled.

“You think that I am joking, but let me assure you that I am not. This dress makes it nearly impossible to breathe.” Hannah made a face, causing Lilly to giggle again.

“What is so funny?” Black Hawk asked.

Hannah and Lilly looked up at him. “Oh, just girl talk,” Hannah replied with a wink at the man’s sister.

Narrowing his eyes, he handed them each a glass of lemonade. “Michael said your father is looking for you and that he is ready to leave.” He frowned at his sister, wishing she’d leave. She got the hint.

“Well, goodnight then, Hannah,” she said after gulping down her lemonade. They watched as she scampered off. When she was gone Black Hawk dropped onto the bench beside Hannah, took her glass out of her hands and set it aside.

“What are you doing?” she asked him.

“I want to kiss you before you have to go.” He leaned in then and lowered his mouth to hers. Taking her bottom lip between his, he gently nibbled on it. Her lips were firm, yet soft, and completely unresisting. Then, opening his mouth, he used his teeth and tongue until she opened her own and accepted his invasion. Groaning slightly, he slipped his arms around her and pulled her close. Her soft breasts pushed up against him, causing her to moan softly.

“Hannah!”

Black Hawk jerked away from her and they both turned around. Jon Cooke stood several steps away from them. His angry blue eyes were narrowed into slits as he glared at them; he looked furious.

“It is time to leave,” he said stiffly.

Hannah nodded and stood up with Black Hawk’s assistance.

“Good night, Hannah,” he said, bending down and placing a kiss on the hand he held. “Good night, Sir,” he said as her father reached to take his daughter’s elbow. The older man only grunted, then steered his daughter away.

**~oOo~**

“You will _not_ do that again!” Jon commanded once he’d settled his wife into their room at the LeGrande Hotel and shooed Magen into the adjoining room with the littler ones.

Hannah frowned. “Do what?” she asked innocently.

“You will not carry on in public with that half-breed. It’s...lascivious!”

“Pa, he only kissed me,” she protested.

“And if he does it again...I’ll rip his head off!”

Hannah crossed her arms over her breasts and glared up at her father. “Then I will leave!” She knew she wouldn’t though, she had promised James.

A pulse of fury shot through him and he wagged a finger in her face. “You _will not_ do it again!” he repeated. “And don’t make threats unless you are prepared to follow through.”

“What makes you think...” she began, but before she could finish, he’d stomped out of the room.

**~oOo~**

Hannah was sitting cross-legged on her bed when she heard a gentle tap on the door. “Come in,” she called out.

Magen popped her head in the room. “Is it safe to come back in?”

Hannah tried to smile. “Yes...I think so.” She watched as her sister slipped into the room and closed the door quietly, then crawled across the bed and settled herself in front of her. “How are Little Porcupine and Little Snowbird?”

“Little Porcupine is staying down the hall with Robbie, and the girls are playing checkers. Little Snowbird learns fast. I think she’s beaten Katie four times out of five.”

Hannah only smiled.

“It might be time to teach her to play chess.”

Hannah smiled again. Chess was Magen’s favorite game; she slaughtered the entire family whenever anyone was fool enough to agree to play. Hannah had stopped playing with her _years_ before she had run away.

“They seem to like each other,” Hannah said with a frown.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Magen asked.

Hannah shrugged. “If I stay it is. If I have to leave...well then...it could be hard.”

Magen frowned. She didn’t like the idea of losing her sister again. “What did you do that make Pa so angry?” she asked worriedly. She hadn’t been able to hear a bit of their conversation, but not from lack of trying; she had had her ear pressed to the door ever since it had closed in her face. It had amused Little Snowbird and Katie very much to see her attempting to eavesdrop. Her niece had giggled. _Why not just ask nahko’eehe_ ,[7] _Nahaa’e_?[8] the child had asked innocently. She had winced.

Hannah blushed. “He caught Black Hawk kissing me.”

Magen sucked in her breath. “And he didn’t tear his head off?”

“He threatened to...if he does it again.”

“Oh! _that’s_ not good,” she said with a frown. But she could not help the smile that crept onto her face. “What was it like?”

“What was _what_ like? You know what it’s like to have Pa yelling at you.”

Magen giggled. “Not that, silly. I’m talking about... _Black Hawk kissing you_ ,” she finished with a dreamy sigh.

Hannah smiled. “It was nice and...well...it wasn’t the first time,” she admitted.

Magen’s eyes widened. “It wasn’t?” She watched as Hannah sat twisting her hands in her lap, then followed her with her eyes as she stood and walked to the window. Magen narrowed her eyes at her sister. “Hannah?

“I spent the night with him,” she said flatly. She hadn’t turned from the window, but she heard Magen’s hand slap over her mouth.

“You didn’t! When?”

Hannah turned to look at her sister, a pained expression on her face. “That Friday night that I stayed in town.”

“But...but Michael told Pa you’d stayed at _his_ house.”

Hannah frowned. She didn’t like that her brother had had to lie for her. “Michael should not have done that,” she said as she dropped into the only chair in the room. “I will talk to him.”

“He didn’t have a choice. Pa took him into his study when he brought you home and interrogated him; they were in there until Ma served supper.” She paused. “Michael insisted that once you’d gotten into town that you’d never left his sight. Oh! except for when he dropped you off at the Kelly’s, where you had supper.”

Hannah’s brow raised. “How do you know all this?”

Magen blushed. “Well...because...I followed them...and I listened at the door for a while. I knew _something_ had happened when you didn’t come home that night; I wanted to know what.”

Hannah shook her head. “You should have just asked me, Magen. I would have told you.”

“I know.”

“Pa would have been furious if he would have caught you.”

“I know.” She swallowed. “Ma wasn’t too happy about it either; she shooed me away when she found me there.”

“What did you hear?”

“Only what I’ve already told you, and that, by the time you had finished supper at the Kelly’s, it was too late to leave. That’s what Michael told Pa.”

Hannah shook her head, then groaned as she dropped it into her hands. “This is getting far too complicated. I do not want people covering for me.”

“But...what Michael said _was_ the truth...in a sense.” She smiled when Hannah frowned at her. “You did have supper at the Kelly’s. And it _was_ too late to ride home when you finished...right?”

Hannah looked up at her sister and nodded.

“So,” Magen said with a shrug, “everything is all right then.”

Hannah could only sigh. Her sister was trying to be helpful, but her naiveté bordered on exhausting. “I am too old for this,” Hannah finally breathed.

Magen giggled. “Too old for what exactly? Falling in love? You’re only twenty-three, Hannah. You might have already lived a lifetime in those years, but your life is far from over.”

Letting her head fall into her hands again, Hannah asked herself. _Am I in love with Black Hawk_? She hadn’t considered it—not seriously anyway. She clearly lusted after the man—but _love_? She wasn’t sure. Maybe she was just lonely. Hannah briefly glanced toward the window, her thoughts on Black Hawk and the kiss they had shared that night, and on their lovemaking in the days before. Then she groaned, knowing it was so. She _was_ in love with him.

“I did not expect this. I did not _want_ to fall in love again...at least not so soon after Windwalker’s death.” She looked up with tears in her eyes. “I just wanted to come home. I did not want this.”

Magen jumped up and knelt in front of her sister, then wiped at Hannah’s tears. “I’m sure your husband loved you, Hannah. How could he not love you? And because he loved you, he wouldn’t want you to be alone forever. He would want you to find love again.”

Hannah blinked and a flood of tears fell. “Then why do I feel so bad?”

Magen shrugged. “You cannot mourn your husband’s death forever. You have found love. It may be sooner than you expected, but this is a good reason to move on. Not everyone experiences love in his or her life, but you have found it _twice_. You are very lucky. Do you really want to deny yourself such happiness?”

Hannah smiled, then shook her head. “I love him.”

Magen nodded and smiled.

“I _love_ Black Hawk,” Hannah repeated.

Magen grinned. “Then you’ll have to tell him.”

 

[1]. naaxaa’eheme (naaxaa’éhéme) – my sister (man speaking)

[2]. nahtataneme (nâhtataneme) – my brother (woman speaking)

[3]. Neho’e (Ného’e) - father

[4]. Nae’ha – son

[5]. Mo’ohtaveaenohe (Mo’óhtaveaenohe) – Black Hawk

[6]. esemahe (ésemáhe) – your younger sibling

[7]. nahko’eehe (náhko’éehe) – my mother

[8]. Nahaa’e (Nâháa’e) - Auntie


	27. Chapter 27

** CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN **

“Then you’ll have to tell her.”

Black Hawk dropped his hands into his lap and stared up at his father. “Are you crazy?” His father only smiled at him. “I can’t do that, Neho’e.[1] It would only complicate matters.”

“Why? because _Jon Cooke_ wouldn’t like it?”

“No...because Jon Cooke would be _furious_. You did not see the way he looked at me when he found me kissing his daughter...he wanted to kill me. And the way he looked at Hannah....” He stood and started to pace at the foot of his bed. “I can’t do that to Hannah. She’s been through enough.”

Daniel shook his head at his son. He was standing just inside Black Hawk’s bedroom, leaning against the wall next to the doorjam, and watching his son go back and forth. And he couldn’t help but see the look of defeat on Black Hawk’s face. “Nae’ha,[2] there are only a few things in life that are worth fighting for. That’s why I ignore most of the bigotry that I see day in and day out. It’s just not worth it to me. I’m bigger than that.” He paused. “But sometimes... _sometimes_ there are things... _people_ who _are_ worth the fight.” He paused again. “Is Miss Cooke worth it?”

For a moment Black Hawk could only nod. And then he found his voice. “Yes, Neho’e...Hannah is worth it.”

Daniel looked into his son’s pain-filled eyes and sighed. “Then you have to tell her.”

**~oOo~**

” _Tell him_?” Hannah exclaimed. She was standing at the window again, staring out across the street toward the Walker home. From the third floor of the hotel she could easily see over the shorter buildings that made up the businesses across the way; she could even see that the lights were still on in Dr. Walker’s living room. She wondered what they were doing over there.

“Have you lost your mind?” she finally asked as she swung around to face Magen, who lay lazily on the bed they would share that night. “Why would Black Hawk want to put up with a man like our father?”

Magen smiled. “Oh I don’t know. I bet he’d be willing to put up with a lot, just to be with you. I saw the way he held you tonight. Everyone did. Why do you think men stopped asking you to dance?”

Hannah shook her head and turned back to the window, noticing immediately that the lights across the way had dimmed. Have they gone to bed? she wondered. She wished she had the nerve to just walk over there and knock on the door. She wished that she could just go on over there and crawl into his bed with him. She wished she could.... She shook her head to clear her thoughts.

“I guarantee that it was not due to _the way_ he held me, Magen...it was merely the fact that he held me that stopped the _fine men_ of this town from approaching me.” She shook her head. “I am damaged goods to most.” She smiled grimly as her eyes went back to the window. “But I cannot say that I am sorry no one wanted to dance with me...I was where I wanted to be. I was with the man I love.”

“He’s very handsome,” Magen stated as she watched her sister stare out into the night.

“Ah-ha.”

Magen smiled, then flopped onto her stomach and propped her chin on her hands. “Was Windwalker as handsome?” she asked.

Hannah glanced over at her sister with a pained expression, then nodded. “Yes...he was.”

“Was running away worth it?”

Her eyes going back to the window, Hannah could only nod.

“You loved him very much, didn’t you?”

“Um-hmm.”

Magen watched Hannah for a moment—afraid, yet needing to ask if Hannah planned to stay. “Are you going to run away again?”

“ _Magen_ , that‘s enough.” Hannah’s tone was one of warning. She really didn’t have the energy to discuss this yet again.

“ _Hannah_ , I think I have a right to know. I’m not a little girl anymore. Are you going to leave us again?” she persisted. “Or do you plan to stay and fight for what you want?”

Hannah crossed her arms under her breasts and sighed in exasperation as she shook her head. “I promised James that I would not leave...so no, I’m not going anywhere.”

Magen let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding, then smiled, relieved that she wouldn’t have to worry about losing her sister again.

“You look good with him...Black Hawk, I mean. Your differences compliment one another.”

“Thank you,” Hannah said with a sigh as she left the window and joined Magen on the bed. She still felt that there wasn’t much hope, but she couldn’t help the smile that graced her face; it even touched her eyes. Magen grinned back. It was hard to resist one of Magen’s innocent looks.

“What about you?” Hannah asked to change the subject. “Did you enjoy the social?

Magen fiddled with the hem of her nightgown, but nodded.

“Did you dance with anyone special?” Hannah asked as she pulled back the covers and climbed in. She hadn’t paid much attention to anyone or anything at the social; she’d only had eyes for Black Hawk.

Magen rolled over and sat on her feet, then shrugged. “No, not really.”

Hannah cocked her head, her eyes dubious. “What does that mean?”

“I danced with Billy,” she said shyly. “But I’m not too interested in him though...not anymore.”

“No? And why is that?”                                           

Magen sighed. “Billy is... _nice_ , but....” She stopped and shook her head, then looked up at Hannah. “But he’s not...”

“ _Brave Wolf?”_ Hannah offered.

Magen’s face turned a deep, dark red, contrasting significantly with her white blonde hair. “How did you know?”

Hannah laughed. “Because I recognize that look on your face...it’s the same one that looked back at me in the mirror every time I thought about Windwalker.” Hannah sighed. “But what are we going to do about Pa?” She didn’t expect Magen to answer; the question was rhetorical. “He’s never going to survive this!”

And as if he knew he was being talked about, a sharp rap on the door sounded, and being the one closest to the door, Hannah pushed back the covers, got up and opened it.

“Pa.”

Jon looked her up and down. She was wearing a light-weight cotton sleeping gown, one he assumed belonged to her sister. He was glad to see her dressed properly for a change, though he wished she had covered herself with a wrapper. And her feet were bare. He shook his head, then quickly glanced at Magen; thankfully, she was covered completely.

“Time for bed!” he snapped.

“Yes Pa,” Magen said.

Jon narrowed his eyes at his daughters when they didn’t move. “Now!”

Hannah frowned as she watched her sister slide her slender legs under the sheets and pull the covers up to her neck, then she quickly looked back at their father, a look of irritation clearly on her face.

“As you can see, Pa, we were just going to bed.”

He didn’t say anything. He only pointed at the bed. Hannah stared at him for a moment, then sighed and obediently got in bed next to Magen. She felt like a small child being sent to bed without supper.

Jon watched, then poked his head through the door to look in on Katie and Little Snowbird. Both girls stared up at him; Katie smiled and Little Snowbird tried not to look scared. She still wasn’t sure about this man who was her mother’s father. He didn’t seem to be as mean as he used to be, but he was nearly always grumpy.

“Time for bed,” he said gruffly as he stepped into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed with a smile for his youngest daughter. “Good night Katie Girl,” he said.

“Good night Poppy,” Katie said.

He ruffled her blonde head, then glanced at his granddaughter. “Good night, Little Snowbird.”

“Seheso,”[3] Katie corrected.

He frowned, but nodded, then stood and walked back to the door, pausing briefly to look back at the two dissimilar girls before going back into his older daughters’ room. Just as he left he heard Little Snowbird’s whispered voice.

“Good night, nameseme.”[4]

 

Hannah and Magen had watched their father leave, then talked for a little while longer. Finally, they both rolled over and slept.

**~oOo~**

Black Hawk lay shirtless on his bed. His father had left him alone and he had immediately kicked off his shoes, pulled his shirt over his head and flopped down. Now he couldn’t stop thinking about Hannah. He’d always thought he didn’t need a woman in his life. They seemed only to be a hassle. And then _she’d_ walked into his life. It had been totally unexpected, and unwanted, but somehow she had gotten under his skin and now he couldn’t imagine life without her. He decided that, if there was a way, he was going to marry the girl as soon as possible. But _how_ , he did not know. That part was going to take some thinking.

**~oOo~**

Black Hawk pulled nervously at his collar again and frowned down at himself. Lilly had insisted on the shirt and trousers he was wearing, saying that he needed to be in _church clothes_ if he was to make an impression on the Cookes. He had scoffed when he saw what she’d held up, knowing that it just wouldn’t be that simple, but he had put it on anyway. _Whatever_ it takes, he told himself. But now, just as he had the night before, he stood there feeling uncomfortable, and completely out of his element.

“You look _fine_ ,” Lilly reassured him.

“Humph!” he grunted.

“Well you do,” she said.

Black Hawk’s brow furrowed. “But this,” he said, gesturing at his person, “is not me! I do not dress like this, and I do not go to church.”

Lilly pursed her lips. “Do you want Hannah?” she asked simply.

He frowned. “Yes...but this is not the way to get her. She is not about church either.”

Lilly smiled. “No, you are right...but this will impress her family. You do want her family to like you, don’t you?”

Black Hawk sighed. “I just want Hannah. I do not care what her family thinks.”

His sister shook her head. “You haven’t learned anything, nahtataneme.[5] If you want a woman, you have to get close to her family...win them over. It is not easy, but essential.”

Black Hawk frowned. “And how do you know so much about this topic? You are only twelve.”

Lilly smiled. “Which man would you prefer to send me out with, the one dressed as you are now, or one wearing _that_?” She gestured at the pile of clothing crumpled up at the end of his bed.

Black Hawk groaned. The thought of his little sister even _thinking_ of men was disturbing, but he knew that she was right. He also knew that this was going to be torture. “All right, Lilly,” he said, tugging at his collar again.

She grinned at him. “It will not be so bad,” she insisted. “I promise.”

“Church is boring,” he stated plainly.

“And how would _you_ know? When have you ever stepped into one?”

Black Hawk raised a brow. “I _have been_ to church before, Lill.”

Lilly folded her arms over her chest. “When?” _She_ couldn’t recall the last time he had attended with the family. _Had he ever_? she wondered, thinking real hard.

He frowned. “It has been many years, but I remember that it was boring.” He had gone to church many times in Boston, with his aunt and uncle and cousins, but _here_ , only one time. He thought about that last time, the one and only time in Little Creek; it was the day of their mother’s funeral and it was devastatingly painful, even now. “I do not like church,” he stated in a flat tone.

“Well, we will be right beside you.”

Black Hawk stared at Lilly as she worked on Star’s hair and wished their father hadn’t had to make a house call that morning, leaving him to care for his two sisters. Usually, the older man took his daughters with him when he worked, but never on Sundays. On Sundays the man always took the day off to bring his daughters to church, but today, an emergency had called him away. Sighing, Black Hawk picked up his three-year-old sister and started for the door.

“Wait! You forgot our bible,” Lilly said, picking up the little, black, leather-bound book that had been their mother’s.

**~oOo~**

All throughout services, Black Hawk kept his eyes on the back of Hannah’s head. She was sitting in between her father and her children in the second row on the left side of the room, and hadn’t noticed him on the opposite side, standing just behind his sisters in the very last pew—until she turned her head to stretch the kinks of boredom from her neck.

 

Hannah could hardly concentrate. Leaning her head to the left, she rolled it around, then glanced over her shoulder. Abby was sitting with her parents just behind them and looked somewhat good. It pleased Hannah when her friend smiled at her. She smiled back, then let her eyes wonder around the room. She noticed Jesse sitting on the other side of the room; he too smiled at her. She returned it, but let her eyes continue to roam. The church was filled with familiar faces. Even her father’s hands sat in various places around the room. She had to laugh to herself as she thought about them worshipping on Sundays, after cursing all week on the ranch and then drinking it up and whoring in town on Saturday nights after they were paid. Not that she faulted them, it was just amusing.

As she scanned the room, she saw some not so friendly faces. For some reason the town barber had a nasty scowl on his face. Hannah couldn’t remember ever offending the man and wondered if his look was intended for her or if he always looked that way. Then she noticed that several others were glowering at her as well. She frowned, but assumed it was because of her past. Shaking her head, she started to face front again—then stopped. Doing a double-take, her eyes met Black Hawk’s. He had one hand on the shoulder of the sister who sat in front of him, the other hand held an open bible, but he was looking only at her. A smile touched her lips as she faced front again. She had tried to pay attention before seeing him, but now it was hopeless.

**~oOo~**

When services had ended, Black Hawk slipped outside quickly and stood just a short distance away from the church, in a place where he knew Hannah and her family were bound to pass, and watched as the townspeople slowly filed out of the small building and talked. He saw their pleasant smiles as they greeted one another and, for the first time in his life, he wished he could be a part of it. He wished that he was received just like everyone else. Frowning bitterly, he glanced at his sisters. Lilly sat on a bench, holding Star in her lap and patiently waiting for him. He also wished that, for their sake, the town would someday see past their prejudice.

And then his eyes caught sight of Hannah coming out of the church. She had one arm linked though Magen’s, who was holding a fancied up Little Snowbird. He watched her blink into the bright summer sun and frown before looking around. Her gaze swept the grassy area and he knew the moment she noticed him leaning against a tree. She turned quickly then and spoke to her sister. He pushed off the tree as she approached, nervously tucking the loose strands of his hair behind his ears. She stopped a few feet in front of him.

“Good morning, Hannah,” he said, ignoring those watching them. “How are you?”

She smiled. “I am fine, thank you.” She glanced over at his sisters. Lilly waved. She smiled and waved back, then looked back at the man she loved. “I enjoyed the social last night. Did you?”

He nodded. “I did...for the first time in my life. But I must admit that it’s only because you were there.”

Hannah felt her body heat up and had the urge to step closer to him, to touch him and kiss him, to feel his hands upon her, his lips pressing feather-light kisses over hers. The pull was almost magnetic, but she didn’t dare give in to it. Without looking, she knew they had an audience; she could almost feel the townspeople’s eyes boring into her back. She shifted on her feet instead.

“I’d like to see you again...soon,” he said. “I want...,” he began, but frowned at something behind her. She read his look quickly and turned. Her father was walking toward them, and he didn’t look happy. She sighed heavily.

**~oOo~**

Jon eyed his daughter and the breed as he advanced on them. They were standing a respectable distance apart, or would have been if the buck had been any other man in town. But as it was, the half-breed should know better than to even converse with a white woman, let alone in public. Jon was still furious about the spectacle his daughter had made of herself the night before, and frustrated that she kept pitting herself against him.

“It’s time to leave!” Jon said curtly when he reached the pair.

Hannah nodded and moved to her father’s side, but cast a longing look back at Black Hawk as her father’s fingers curled around her upper arm and pulled her away. She wouldn’t argue with her father in front of Black Hawk, but as soon as they were a safe distance from the man, she maneuvered her arm out of his hand and scowled.

“We were _just_ talking,” she said, her tone angry and hurt.

“I told you—”

“—not to kiss him in public,” she finished for him. “And I wasn’t. He did not even touch me.”

“No, I said I’d rip his head off it he kissed you again,” he growled. “And I also said that the two of you would not _carry on_ like this...that means _no talking_ to each other.”

Hannah frowned. “That is not fair!”

“Life’s not fair, Hannah!” he snapped. “Now, go get your children...we’re going home!”

And with that, he stomped off. Hannah watched him go, then turned to look back at Black Hawk—he was gone. With a frown, she glanced around. Black Hawk and his sisters were nowhere to be seen. _They’ve probably headed home_ , she thought sadly, wishing she’d at least had a chance to tell him she loved him. Slowly, she walked to where the family stood waiting, then followed them back into town.

 

[1]. Neho’e (Ného’e) - Father

[2]. nae’ha – my son

[3]. Seheso (Šeheso) – Little Snowbird

[4]. nameseme (namêšéme) – my grandfather

[5]. nahtataneme (náhtataneme) – my brother


	28. Chapter 28

** CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT **

Hannah stared miserably across the table at the five _very_ different men her father had invited to supper that evening. She hadn’t been too upset when her father told her she wouldn’t work that day, thinking it would be nice to have a day with her mother and sister instead. But when he came in at lunch and announced they’d have guests that evening, and that she was to dress _properly_ , she had become suspicious. And then, after her father had ridden back out, her mother had explained what her husband had done, and insisted that she at least make an attempt to placate him. Furiously, she had bathed, in the house at her mother’s insistence, and dressed in clothing she wasn’t comfortable wearing, and allowed Magen to twist up her hair and pin it tightly to her head. Squirming uncomfortably, she stared at her reflection in the mirror and shuddered at what she saw.

And then the evening had begun.                                                  

The first man to arrive was the librarian’s son. Hannah knew him as Cam, which was short for Cameron; she had gone to school with him and he was three years younger than herself and more boy than man, in her opinion. The second one, a nervous man with a twitch, worked for Mr. Berk at the mill. The third man to arrive, the banker, was nearly fifteen years her senior and completely self-absorbed. The fourth man was just some poor soul that had had the misfortune of passing through town on the day her father was out scouting for suitors. And the last, a soldier, now sat to the right of James, mostly discussing the current state of affairs with her father. Disgusted, Hannah sat there for what seemed like hours, listening to them all prattle on about nothing, silently thankful when someone else at the table said something that brought the conversation away from herself, and more than occasionally glaring over at her father, who didn’t even seem to notice her fury. She did, however, study each man individually, so that she had firing power when she took her father to task.

Library boy, who was actually older than Magen by two years, and quite nice, acted as though he’d never even opened a book, preferring instead to talk about hunting and fishing—things Hannah did enjoy, but not at such length, and certainly not for sport. She hunted, and was very skilled at it, but she would never kill an animal unless it was necessary. She glanced at her younger brother Hunter, who seemed enthralled, but no one else at the table seemed the least bit interested. Even her father ignored the young man.

The man from the mill, though probably an interesting fellow, seemed intent on discussing the accident at work where he’d lost a finger, had Katie squirming in her seat, with Little Snowbird holding her hand under the table to calm her—the girls now sat right next to one another instead of a seat apart, just as the boys did. Robbie and Little Porcupine sat in their seats quietly, but Hannah could tell they were practically bursting to ask more questions. Magen, choking on her food, was nearly forced her to leave the table several times. And Hannah, though not physically bothered by such talk, could only shake her head at the man’s poor choice in table conversation and try to steer it in other directions.

The banker, on the other hand, sat there trying to impress her by talking about his duties as the town’s only banker and how important he was, and about money, _his money_ to be more specific. Hannah couldn’t help but think him a frightful bore, even her father hardly seemed able to stomach the conversation. They were just not a family interested in money; they had plenty of it and didn’t see fit to discuss it, or rub the fact in the face of others. She wondered what her father could possibly have been thinking when he’d invited the man to dine with them.

And the fourth man, now a farmer who was in town looking to buy a milch cow—that was how her father had met him, she suspected—had lost everything, including his wife and child, two years before while traveling out from St. Louis. Hannah thought that it might have been Indians, but he explained that it had been an accident while crossing a river; they had drowned. That made clear why he seemed to hold no hostilities toward Indians. He seemed a nice man, and not unhandsome, but still in the throes of grief. Not that it mattered, Hannah would never be interested in anyone at the table; her choice had already been made.

And finally, the soldier, though mostly quiet, kept staring across the table at her and her children, his eyes narrowed into tiny slits of suspicion. He clearly questioned their presence at the table. It made Hannah laugh on the inside that he’d not known why he’d been invited over for supper, or for whom. He sat stiffly, in his shiny-buttoned uniform, talking mostly to her father about buying some cattle for the army and occasionally throwing looks of disgust over at her.

“I’m told ya like huntin’, Miss Cooke,” said the librarian’s son.

Hannah glanced at her father, then back at the boy-man. Wondering if he’d ever even _heard_ of books, she almost laughed out loud. She vaguely remembered that, as a boy, he’d found almost any excuse to skip school and, when he did attend, his mind was not on his studies. The pride of his well-read father, Hannah was sure. Instead, she set down her fork and nodded. “I do. Tell me, do you prefer to use an animal’s liver or its brains when working the skin?” she asked. She ignored her sister’s sharp intake of breath and the choking sound that followed. The young man glanced at Magen, then frowned.

“Excuse me?”

“Liver? Or brains?” she repeated. “After all, a good hunter uses all parts of the animal.” The man from the mill frowned, and the banker held his napkin to his mouth and swallowed hard.

“Are you all right, Sir?” Hannah offered politely. “Do my words offend?” she asked with feigned innocence. “I’m afraid I sometimes choose the wrong words.” Hannah glanced over at her father; he was practically foaming at the mouth. It took everything she had not to burst out laughing. She looked back then at the banker. He swallowed again and cleared his throat.

“Oh...fine, fine. Just went down the wrong tube, I think,” he said, pounding his closed fist on this chest and coughing. Hannah ignored the look of warning her father cast at her and smiled sweetly.

Library boy then cleared _his_ throat. “Like the Indians, Miss Cooke?” he questioned with interest. He’d heard about how she’d been captured by the Cheyenne—taken right off her father’s property, kicking and screaming all the way, he’d heard. People said she was tarnished now, that the Indians had ruined not just her body, but her mind as well. But she seemed capable of thought to him. In fact, now that he was sitting at the same table as she, he thought that she appeared to have _all_ her faculties. But then, he remembered her from school. She was a little older than he, but had always been nice to him. And frankly he’d never put much into what people said. “I hear they use all parts.”

“Yes, indeed, like the Indians. They do not waste, if it can be helped. They cannot afford to,” Hannah said, happily putting a bite of meat in her mouth.

“And which do you use, Miss Cooke,” he asked her, clearly interested in her hunting habits.

Hannah smiled, deciding to continue the conversation despite the fact that, out of the corner of her eye, she could see her father shaking his head warningly. “I find that brains work best.”

“My sister says that each animal has just enough brains to make its skin soft,” Magen added with a smile.

Hannah smiled back at her. “That’s right. Magen here, has helped me work a hide.”

Magen grimaced. “It’s a frightful mess, and it _smells_ horrendous. But I do have to admit that it does work wonders. I have never felt leather quite as soft as Hannah’s.”

Hannah shrugged. “You have not felt soft leather until you have felt that of the People.”

“This is fascinating,” Library boy said with a smile, obviously interested in the topic, though that was probably all. “Just fascinating! I would definitely be interested in seeing your work sometime, Miss Cooke.”

Hannah smiled. “I can make it available, if you truly wish to see it.”

“I would indeed.”

And then a throat was cleared.

“Are you saying, Miss Cooke, that _you’ve_ spent time with the local savages?” The question came from the soldier. Hannah put her fork down again and looked up at the man.

“Clearly I have, Sir,” she countered, inclining her head at each of her children. “And some not so local; I was even present to help clean up the Army’s mess at Washita.”

“ _Hannah_ ,” her father said, his tone one of warning and matching the look on his face.

Hannah turned to look at her father then and shook her head. “I am sorry, Pa,” she said stiffly, unapologetically. She picked up her napkin and wiped her lips, then set it on the table. “I have lost my appetite.” And to her children she spoke in Cheyenne. “Come! We will not sit here and eat with this bluecoat.” She looked then at her father’s guests. “Good evening, gentlemen. I hope you enjoy the rest of your supper.” With that she left the table, exiting into the kitchen and out the back door.

 

Jon watched his daughter go. He knew she was furious, had known she was going to be when he started inviting suitors over, but he had been unable to stop himself; he had to show her that she had options other than the half-breed, that there were white men available to her.

But now, sitting here with the five men he had invited over, he knew that he’d made a grievous mistake. Hannah would never accept something that was forced on her. And as he looked down the table at the men he had chosen, he shook his head, she clearly deserved better. I’ll choose better next time, he thought, pushing aside the fact that his daughter would reject anyone he picked for her.

 

Just getting herself out of the house had calmed her. Hannah went directly to her tepee and changed out of the ridiculous dress she’d been forced to put on and into her usual attire, a much more comfortable doeskin dress, then yanked the pins out of her hair, brushed it quickly and weaved it into two neat braids. Her children changed as well.

“I am sorry you had to sit through that,” she apologized as she sat down by their low-burning fire. Her children only shrugged.

“What should we do now?” she asked them, a tight smile on her lips.

“Can I ride my pony?” Little Porcupine asked, standing there in breechclout alone.

“I think we will all ride,” Hannah said as she plaited her daughter’s long, dark hair. All she could think about was hopping on Whirlwind’s back and riding into town to see Black Hawk, but she knew she couldn’t do that. It had only been a few days since she’d seen him. He’d come to church the previous Sunday, for the first time in ages apparently, but her father had ushered her away before she’d had time to say more than a few words to him. She had hoped he would come out to the ranch; she wanted to tell him that she loved him, but he hadn’t done so, or at least she hadn’t seen him. She frowned as she thought about it, wondering if he was upset with her. Did he think she’d brushed him off in church that day? she wondered, hoping that he knew it was her father, and not her, who hadn’t wanted him around. He must know, right? she questioned herself silently.

“Are you angry, Nahko’e?”[1] Little Snowbird asked as she sat there, waiting patiently while her mother worked on her hair.

Hannah wrapped a leather tie around her daughter’s long braid, then stopped and smiled. “Not at you,” she reassured.

“Are you angry at nameseme?”[2] Hannah nodded at her daughter’s question. “...for inviting the bluecoat over?” Little Snowbird went on, a worried frown creasing her tiny brow. Hannah nodded again.

“But let us not talk on this anymore,” she said after a glance at her young son. He sat stiffly, clearly agitated by their conversation. “Let us ride instead. Would you like to ride your filly?”

Little Snowbird grinned and clapped her hands, instantly forgetting her worry. “Oh yes,” she said excitedly.

“Then let’s go,” Hannah said, picking up her daughter and starting for the barn. Little Porcupine followed without a word.

 

From the far end of the table, Hunter saw his sister pass the first of three dining room windows. He glanced down at his plate; it was mostly empty, and then he looked at his mother.

“May I be excused?”

Mary frowned at her son, wondering at his sudden desire to leave, then movement at the window drew her attention and she knew he wanted to join his sister. It was rude to leave the table before their guests were finished eating, but she thought her daughter might like the company of her brother, and she was pleased he had accepted his eldest sister back so easily. He had certainly been unsure about her on that first day.

With a nod, Mary said, “Please take your plate to the kitchen first.”

Hunter nodded, then got up silently to leave. He didn’t look at his father; he knew his father would only have a scowl on his face.

 

“Hannah!” Hunter called out as he ran toward the barn. “May I join you?”

Hannah smiled at him. “Of course! How _ever_ did you manage to get out of there?”

He laughed. “I think Ma thought you’d like company.”

Hannah leaned to hug him. “Thank you, Hunter. We would _love_ company.” She smiled at him, as did her children.

While she waited for him to get his horse saddled, she settled Little Snowbird on her filly, then climbed onto Whirlwind and adjusted her bow. Little Porcupine sat patiently beside her, his tiny bow slung over his shoulder. When Hunter finally returned, he stopped beside them.

“So...where to?” he asked.

“Anywhere that is away from here.”

“All right then, let’s show Little Snowbird what her mother has been working on everyday.”

**~oOo~**

Later that night, after they were back in their tepee and the sun had disappeared, Hannah tucked her son and daughter into their furs and kissed them each goodnight. Then throwing a log on her fire, she sat down to enjoy its warmth. Sighing, she thought about the stunt her father had pulled. She hadn’t come face to face with him since and was glad. She was so angry with him that she was afraid she might pull her knife on the man. She knew she wouldn’t do that; he was her father. But the thought of staking him to the ground and torturing him without mercy did not sound so unpleasant at the moment. She even smiled slightly as she pictured him that way.

And then her thoughts went to Black Hawk again. She wanted—no _needed_ —to tell him how she felt. I will do it tomorrow, she promised herself. But then she frowned, wondering what her children thought of the man. They hardly knew him. What if they didn’t like him? And as if reading her thoughts, Little Porcupine spoke.

“Nahko’e...are you thinking of...Mo’ohtaveaenohe?”[3] he asked.

Hannah blinked, then frowned. “Why would you think that, Nae’ha?”[4]

Little Porcupine sat up and shrugged. “I saw him kiss you...at the so-shul.” He shrugged again. “I thought maybe you liked him.”

“I do like him,” she admitted. Then, worrying her lip between her teeth, she asked, “Do you?”

“I do not know him. But if you think he is a good man, then he must be,” he said with complete trust.

Hannah smiled her relief. “He is a good man. And he is Cheyenne.”

“When will he tie horses outside your tepee?” Little Snowbird quipped, sitting up to join the conversation.

Hannah’s smile widened, she hadn’t realized her children were so aware of things such as this, but she shook her head; she should not be so surprised, they’d lived their entire lives with the ways of the People. “That is not how it is done here. He will not bring horses for me.”

“Oh.” Little Snowbird sounded disappointed. It was always exciting when men made offers for the women they wanted to marry.

“I do not even know if he feels for me what I feel for him.”

“He does,” her children replied in unison.

Hannah blushed. “What makes you think so?”

Her children glanced at one another, then back at their mother. “While you danced with him, he held you like you were his heart song,” Little Porcupine said.

“And his eyes...saw only you,” Little Snowbird added.

Hannah’s lips started to turn up into a grin, but then she frowned instead, worried about what her children might be feeling. It had not been long since they’d lost the father they had adored. Could they really accept another man in their mother’s life so soon? she wondered. It pained her to think her happiness might cause them sorrow. That was the last thing she wanted. And they seemed to sense it.

“Éhane[5] would not want you to be alone, Nahko’e,” her son said quietly.

Tears suddenly stung her eyes. She tried to suppress them, but failed. Little Snowbird crawled out of her bed and into her mother’s lap and Little Porcupine moved to sit beside her. Their presence comforted.

 

[1]. Nahko’e (Náhko’e) - Mother

[2]. nameseme (namêšéme) – my grandfather

[3]. Mo’ohtaveaenohe (Mo’óhtaveaenohe) – Black Hawk

[4]. Nae’ha - Son

[5]. éhane – our father


	29. Chapter 29

** CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE **

Hannah was returning from her morning trek to the river. She and her children had bathed and each was wearing clean clothing, and she was carrying back fresh water. Back at her tepee, she hung the water bags on the tripod of wood where she always kept them, then prepared a pack; she planned on riding into town to find Black Hawk, and though nervous, she was no longer angry—until she saw her father.

“We need to talk, Hannah,” he said as he followed her into the barn.

She didn’t bother to stop, nor did she look at him. Instead she pushed on. “Not now, Pa!” was her terse response.

He could hardly believe his ears. “Excuse me? What did you say to me, young lady?”

“You heard me,” she tossed over her shoulder, but kept walking away from him.

“Hannah Kristín Cooke, you stop this instant!” he hollered.

She stopped then and spun around to face him, planting her hands on her hips. “I cannot believe what you did to me last night,” she yelled. “That was utterly humiliating!”

“You are the one who walked out on your guests!” he yelled back.

She stared at him, stunned. But she recovered quickly. “ _I_ did not invite them to come here,” she came back at him in exasperation. “They were _your_ guests...not mine!”

“That isn’t the point. You were rude!”

“I don’t give a damn!”

“Watch your tongue! I won’t have any daughter of mine soundin’ like one of them saloon girl tramps.”

Hannah blushed slightly. She knew her anger was getting out of hand, but she couldn’t seem to help herself; he made her _so_ angry. “You had no right to do what you did,” she whispered, her eyes filling. She turned then, to hide her tears, and went into the corral where she whistled for her mare.

Jon was right on her heels. “I am your father. I have every right to help you find a proper husband.”

“A _proper_ husband?” she sputtered. “You’d have me marry a...a _boy_ who works in the library yet clearly hasn’t found the time to read even one book. Or...or a man missing a finger...one that doesn’t have enough sense to not discuss the bloody mess at the dinner table. Or wait...how about our self-absorbed banker, _who_ , I might add, is almost old enough to be _my father_.” She gulped, then continued. “And how about that farmer who’s still mourning his dead wife and child,” she said sarcastically. “Is that what you want for me? I mean, _really_ want for me?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “And best yet!” she laughed caustically as manic tears filled her eyes, “a _soldier_ , a bluecoat, who is probably responsible for killing some of my Cheyenne family. _How could you_!” she screamed.

Jon sighed. His daughter was more upset than he had surmised. “Hannah, I admit my choices were not...prudent. But I will do better next time. I intend to find you a suitable husband.”

“And what if I do not _want_ your _suitable_ husband?” she asked through gritted teeth as she swung up onto Whirlwind’s back and stared down at her father. “I will find my own husband, thank you!” she snapped. “I do not need you for the task.” Tears streamed down her face; she had tried so hard to hold them back, but could not. She loathed giving her father the satisfaction that he’d reduced her to tears. She didn’t know that seeing her in tears broke his heart. When he reached up to her she recoiled.

“Don’t touch me!” she growled, using her thighs to back Whirlwind away from him. “Just leave me alone!”

“I can’t leave this up to you, Hannah...look how well things turned out when you made your own choice. You ended up with a damned Injun!”

She shook her head in frustration. _Does he not listen_? she thought. “You say that like my husband was a disease...like he was a bad person. He did not beat me, he treated me well. He loved me. And I loved him...loved him with all my heart,” she said tearfully. “I was perfectly happy there with him and our people.”

Her father blanched, his blue eyes darkening angrily.

“Those savages are _not_ your people,” he snarled. “And he should have known better than to take you away from your family.”

She couldn’t help the derisive laughter that bubbled up through her tears. “You do not listen, do you? He did not _take me_ away. I went willingly! I _wanted_ to be with him.”

Jon shook his head. “You were young...that savage just made you think you had a choice. He would have carried you off if you’d have refused. That’s how those savages are! They just take what they want and kill innocent people. And he’d have probably killed you when he got tired of you.”

She laughed again. “I was there for _seven years_ , Pa...there was plenty of time for him to _tire of me_. He did not! _We_ did not tire of one another. No Pa, contrary to what you think, my husband would _never_ have hurt me. He was not that kind of man. But even if he was, do you believe me to be some simple-minded girl who would go along with just anyone? Or a weakling? I would have fought like hell if I didn’t want to go. I knew what I was doing, despite what you think. And those _savages_ treated me like one of their own. They did not try to control me as you do. They were more like family to me than you have been since I have returned.”

“That’s hard to believe,” he spat. “I know what them Injuns do to white women.”

Hannah shook her head. _The man is impossible_! “Well, it is true. They never once forced me to do anything I didn’t want to do. They accepted and protected me, and taught me their ways, just as if I had been born to them. My _husband_ was a good man, Pa.”

“Yeah, so good that he’s left you alone with two little bastard half-breeds to raise on your own, and in a town full of people that hate Injuns! Some husband!”

Hannah’s face flushed with fury. “Do not _ever_ call my children bastards!” she said through clenched teeth. “I was _married_ to their father. It might not have been in a church by a preacher, the way you would have preferred, but we _were_ married. And my _husband_ did not desert me... _he was killed_!”

“Yeah, by his own people. _Injuns_!”

She shook her head. “He was not killed by his own people. The Pawnee are a completely different people, Pa.”

“An Injun’s an Injun! Can’t you see how dangerous they are?” he stormed.

She snorted and started away. “They are no more dangerous than the veho’e!”[1] she said angrily. Her life with the Indians had been dangerous, yes. She had seen much war and death while she lived among them, and it had been utterly frightening and devastatingly painful. But most of that danger had come from the white man. There had been many times that she’d worried the Cheyenne might ask her to leave, just because _she_ was white. But it hadn’t happened. They had always reassured her that she belonged with them, and that they did not blame her for the actions of the people to whom she had been born.

“It was _my_ choice to come back, Pa. They did not _make me_ return. And now I almost regret my decision to do so!”

“Well then, maybe you shouldn’t have come back!” he snapped before he could stop himself.

With a shake of her head, she nudged Whirlwind into a lope. She had to get away from the man.

“Hannah! Stop! Wait!” he hollered after her. “Come back here! I didn‘t....” But it was too late, she had pushed her horse into a full gallop and was headed toward town. He hadn’t really meant what he’d said to her; it had just come out because she’d frustrated him so. And now he regretted his words. He didn’t want her to leave again; he was glad she was back.

“Damn it, girl!” he cursed.

**~oOo~**

Hannah rode wildly, tears streaming down her face as she raced hell-bent down the wagon trail. After nearly ten minutes of running her horse hard, she slowed, then stopped and hunched over her horse’s neck, letting out a sob. She had woken up feeling at peace, glad her son and daughter sat on her side of the tepee where Black Hawk was concerned, and looking forward to seeing him, to telling him how much she loved him. But now, after arguing with her father again, she was back to feeling distraught and uncertain.

“Hannah?”

Startled, she looked up and through blurry eyes saw Black Hawk sitting upon his huge black steed several yards away. “Black Hawk,” she whispered, relieved that she wouldn’t have to ride all the way into town to search for him.

“What is wrong?” he asked.

Moving to her side, he reached to lift her from her horse to his. Then, cradling her in his arms, he let her cry. For the first time since he’d met her she seemed helpless, fragile even.

“Tell me, honey,” he said, his voice softening as he rocked her gently. “What happened?” He used his free thumb to wipe her tears away, then he leaned in to kiss her nose. “Please tell me what’s upset you?”

“It’s my pa....” She hiccupped and let out another sob.

He tensed. “Is he all right? Did something happen to him?” he asked worriedly. He didn’t much like Jon Cooke, but he had no wish to see anything bad happen to him, especially if it hurt Hannah. And despite how mean-spirited the man seemed to be, Black Hawk knew his prejudice hurt his daughter desperately.

“N-no...there is n-nothing wrong with him,” she sobbed, “...except that the man’s _insane_.”

Black Hawk frowned, then adjusted her weight in his arms and slid off his horse, pulling her with him and then setting her on the ground. “What’s he done, honey?” he asked, pushing the loose strands of her hair behind her ears and then kissing her salty tears away.

“He is trying to find me a husband,” she said angrily through her tears. “He brought five men out to the ranch last night...and made me sit through supper with them. They were fools! It was awful!”

Black Hawk frowned. He had intended on going to her the night before, but then his father had been called away and he’d had to stay with his sisters. He’d gone to tell Michael, but the sheriff had had the night off and was nowhere to be found. Now he felt bad, terrible even; he hadn’t been there when Hannah needed him.

“I can’t marry any of those men, Black Hawk...I can’t,” she sobbed again.

“And why is that?” he asked hopefully.

“Because...it is _you_ that I want. You are the only thing I think about...the only man I can imagine spending my life with.”

“You would marry this _half-breed?”_

She scoffed. “As if that matters to me. Of course I would marry you. I....” She stopped and stared into his startling gray eyes as he lowered himself to his knee, holding her hands as he looked up into her glassy blue ones.

“I love you, Hannah Cooke...will you marry me?” he asked her.

She giggled in spite of herself, then dropping to her knees in front of him and throwing her arms around him, she nodded. “I love you too, Black Hawk. Of course I will marry you.”

Black Hawk stood up then, pulling her with him and lifting her in his arms before setting her down again and taking her head in his hands for a kiss. For the next few minutes the two of them stood there, lips locked together, reassuring each other that they belonged to one another.

“You are mine?”

She grinned and nodded. “I love you.”

His eyes flashed with passion as he lowered his lips to hers once again.

“Let’s go for a swim,” she said when he broke the kiss for a breath.

Black Hawk nodded. Her kisses had him breathing hard as well, but the fact that the day was hot added heat to their passion. Keeping her hand in his, he clucked to get the horses to follow. They did—they were both well trained. Then off they went to the river.

**~oOo~**

“I thought you wanted to swim,” he said to her. After helping each other out of their clothing, he had tried to lead her to the water, but she had resisted, going instead to her horse and spreading a blanket out on the mossy bank.

“We will swim,” she said with a nod, “...after.” She smiled and tilted her head enticingly. “But I don’t think I can wait for you to touch me.”

He grinned at her and took the few steps to join her, pushing her down onto the blanket and covering her mouth with his. They lay there, their naked bodies pressed together, their legs entwined, letting their hands explore each other. Once again, his fingertips brushed the puckered scar where the Pawnee arrow had gone through her side. Frowning, he rolled her to her side, so he could look at it, and then he kissed it, both the entrance wound and then the exit wound, before kissing his way up her back and to her neck. She giggled then, her neck had always been a weakness.

“Ah, now I have you where I want you,” he said, using his body to pin her, stomach down, and nibble playfully at her neck.

She screamed and struggled, but was laughing so hard she couldn’t free herself. “Stop!” she finally screamed through her laughter. And when he did, it took several deep breaths for her to calm herself down. Her breathing was just becoming normal again when she felt his knee nudge her legs apart and a hand snake around to find her wet center. She moaned as he stroked her with fingers on one hand, then gasped as he entered her with two fingers from the other. And while his hands kept her lower half busy, his lips once again found her neck, causing her to shiver violently.

“Do you still wish me to stop?” he asked teasingly, biting playfully at her earlobe, then drawing his tongue across her neck once again.

Hannah moaned loudly, her body shaking as she tried desperately to move with him. “Please,” she begged. “I _need_ you.”

“And do you need _this_ ,” he whispered, grinding his hardness against the soft flesh of her backside.

She groaned. “I do.”

Black Hawk smiled, then slowly pulled his fingers from her body and replaced them with his throbbing manhood. Hannah arched her back to take him into her body, shuddering as he pushed deeper and deeper into her. And then, when his fingers found her sensitive node once again, she screamed out her pleasure and shuddered repeatedly as he worked to find his own release. When it finally came, they lay there together, bodies drenched in sweat, eyes closed and chests heaving, yet completely sated.

**~oOo~**

“Did you still want to swim?” he asked.

“Uh-ha,” Hannah moaned as she rolled over and lifted her hand to caress the man lying beside her. He moved his arm and curled it around her, holding her naked body to his. They had just woken up from their nap. Neither knew how long it had been, but the color of her skin told them it had been longer than they thought.

“You look a little sunburned,” he said, sitting up and looking down at her bare buttocks, which, though not as pale as other white women, was now tinged just slightly pink.

She shrugged. “It will fade.” She smiled. “Are you up to a swim?”

He grinned. “I am.”

**~oOo~**

Jon had chores to complete before going after his daughter. He’d sent Hunter out with James, with the hope of covering his own work, but that left Hannah and Hunter’s piece of land unworked for the day and that bothered him. But there was nothing he could do about it so he decided to let it go. No one had been working that piece of land before his daughter’s return, so what was one more untouched day. And he needed to go after her. As it was, it had been hours since she’d ridden off; he needed to find her and fix the mess he had created.

“Mary, I’ll be back...when I’m back,” he said to her.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine, Jon. Just find my daughter.”

“Damn it, Mary, that’s what I’m doing! Isn’t that what I’m doing?”

“Yes, it is,” she nodded. “But only after _you_ chased her off... _again_! Just find her...and don’t curse at me...damn it! I’m not one of your hands,” she shouted, then stormed into the house, slamming the screen loudly as she went.

Jon shook his head and headed out, riding off his property slowly and studying his daughter’s unshod-horse’s tracks as he went. He figured she had gone into town so he wasn’t watching too carefully, until he crossed the bridge at the halfway point. Once on the other side, and realizing her tracks had disappeared, he turned around and headed back. When he found her horse’s prints again, he stopped and frowned, then glancing around, he dismounted and headed into the trees toward the river. He was shocked at what he found.

**~oOo~**

“Stop that, you!” Hannah yelled, running her hands through the water to soak Black Hawk. He did his best to avoid the wave coming at him, but managed to grab her around the waist and pull her under. He went with her, both sputtering when they resurfaced, arms wrapped around each other.

“What the _hell_ is going on here?”

Hannah and Black Hawk were startled apart, both sinking into the river so their nakedness couldn’t be seen, but they didn’t move far from one another. Hannah settled just behind him, her hands on his arms, almost possessively, and eyes wide with surprise; Black Hawk’s clouded darkly.

“Pa,” Hannah said in shock. “I....”

He gave her a look of disgust. “Get your ass out of that water!” His eyes swung to the naked man in front of his daughter. “Both of you!”

“Sir....”

“Shut up!” Jon hollered. “Out! Now!”

Hannah moved slowly, glancing up at Black Hawk, then stood up cautiously. Her father looked away as she moved to the shore and wrapped the blanket around herself. Black Hawk came out of the water as well, moving to where his clothes lay and struggled into his jeans without drying off.

“Sir...I’m....”

“No!” Jon yelled at him. “Don’t you say anything to me!” He stood there shaking in fury, trying to come up with reasons why he would be seeing what he was. All he could come up with was that his daughter was being taken advantage of. She _had_ yelled 'stop that.' He was just glad he had arrived in time.

“I’ll have you hanged for hurting her,” Jon said with a scowl.

Hannah glanced then, from her father to Black Hawk, and then back again, a frown of confusion knotting her brow. “Pa, Black Hawk was _not_ hurting me. We were....”

“Shut up, Hannah!” her father said through clenched teeth. He didn’t really want to know.

Hannah stared at him. “My _God_ , Pa,” she gasped. “I’m not some innocent, young girl! I know what goes on between a man and a woman,” she said, her voice raising as she tried to get her father’s attention. “And I _am_ a woman...with womanly needs! For crying out loud...I’m a mother!”

Jon stared at his daughter for a moment, trying to comprehend what she was saying. When the meaning of her words finally hit him, his jaw dropped open and his eyes widened as they swung to Black Hawk.

“Did you...have you... _bedded_ my daughter?” he demanded angrily grinding his teeth. But he didn’t give the younger man time to answer. Before Black Hawk was able to utter a single word, Jon had pulled out his gun, cocked it and had it zeroed in on the man. And he would have fired it, had Hannah not stepped in his line of fire.

“Pa!” she screamed. “ _Please_...stop this!” He wasn’t listening to her. “PA!” she screamed again to get his attention. “Black Hawk has done nothing that I did not want him to do.”

“Get out of the way, Hannah!” Jon growled. “He’s taken advantage of you. I’ll take care of this!”

“No!” She stood her ground, arms crossed over her chest in defiance. “I will not move. You will shoot him if I move. And I cannot let you shoot the man I love.”

Jon blinked, then frowned at his daughter. His hand faltered. “How can you do this to me, Hannah?”

“Pa, I’m not doing this _to_ you...I love who I love. It’s as simple as that. I... _love_...Black Hawk. _Please_ , Pa... _please_ don’t hurt him.” Her eyes filled with tears as she begged her father to accept what she wanted. “ _Please_ let me have this, _please_.”

Jon stared at his daughter as she cried out in pain, then looked at the man standing stiffly behind her. He had his hands on her upper arms; he looked to be supporting her. Jon was sure she would have collapsed had the young man not been holding her up. His grip on his gun loosened.

“And do you love my daughter...enough to marry her, Mr. Walker?” he demanded. “To make an honest woman out of her.”

“She is already an honest woman, Sir. More so than most.”

Jon closed his eyes and held up the hand not holding the gun. “Just answer my question!” he demanded.

Black Hawk nodded. “I love her very much, Sir. And I have already asked her to be my wife. I have wanted to marry her since before I even knew her.”

Jon frowned, then looked at his daughter, suddenly embarrassed that she only wore a blanket. He didn’t think he’d ever get the image of the two of them flopping around in the river naked out of his mind.

“Get dressed, Hannah. I’d like to see the both of you at the ranch...and I’d prefer that you were dressed.” He gave them one last searching look, then holstered his gun and stalked off through the trees to where he’d tied his horse.

**~oOo~**

As upset as she was, Black Hawk had to help her dress. He was just glad that she didn’t faint; she looked as if she could at any moment. She was tearful and shaky, and her teeth chattered with cold from being wet, though it was far from chilly out. She even seemed confused. This wasn’t like before, when he’d come upon her sobbing. That had been anger and frustration. Right now it was fear. This was a Hannah that he did not know. It somehow made her seem more human to him. She had been so tough since he’d met her. The woman bravely fought Pawnee warriors, had survived being impaled by an arrow, had killed to protect those she loved and defended herself against the seemingly random attacks in town, yet she fell apart when her father threatened to take her newfound happiness away—happiness she deserved. Black Hawk swore to himself that he’d give her what she wanted, what _they_ wanted, that no matter what, he would find a way to keep them together.

When they reached their horses, he lifted her gently and set her on his black, then, climbing up behind her, he took Whirlwind’s reins to lead her back to the Circle C. Hannah sat tall in front of him, staring straight forward and not saying a word. By the time they reached the ranch, she was mostly recovered, but still seemed to be frightened about meeting with her father.

Once in front of the Cooke barn, Black Hawk slid off his horse, pulling her with him. As if in a daze, she led their horses to the eastern corral, where she released them, then she headed toward the house, Black Hawk never leaving her side. When they got there, they stopped on the porch, where her mother and Magen sat with the children. James came out then, a worried frown knotting his forehead; he held the door open and motioned for Black Hawk to come inside.

Black Hawk looked down at Hannah, then pulled her into his arms. She shivered and clung to him as if she’d never get to touch him again. After a few moments, he pulled back, brushed his lips across her brow, then took a deep breath and entered the house. James showed him to the study, then closed the door behind him and left.

**~oOo~**

“How are you going to support my daughter, Son?” Jon demanded, as soon as they were alone behind closed doors. He was sitting in his big, comfortable armchair, a glass of whiskey in hand and his feet up on an ottoman, but he looked far from relaxed.

Black Hawk shrugged. “I’m not poor, Sir.”

“No? You gonna offer me a bunch of damned horses in exchange for my daughter?” Jon blurted.

Black Hawk shook his head. “Of course not. Just because I’m part Indian doesn’t mean I practice the ways of the People.”

Jon nodded, of course not, he thought. “So...where will you two live?” he asked, standing up to pace.

“Four,” Black Hawk corrected.

Jon stopped and stared at him, then nodded and started pacing again. “Yes, of course...where will _the four of you_ live then?” he accentuated.

Black Hawk shrugged again. “Wherever Hannah wants to live, Sir. My father’s practice is in town, so...as close to town as possible I suppose. Maybe there’s a small cabin close to town I could purchase...or maybe I could build one. We don’t need much.”

Jon stopped pacing and looked up at the younger man with a frown. “What makes you think a small cabin is large enough for my daughter?”

Black Hawk raised a brow. “She’s living in a tepee, Sir. I doubt she cares about size.”

Jon nodded. The man is logical, he thought. Then something else occurred to him. “How are you at ranchin’?” He could always use another hand.

Black Hawk sighed. “I’ve never done any ranching, Sir...but I’m good with my hands...and good with animals.” He shrugged. “Obviously...or I wouldn’t be working with my father.”

Jon nodded. He hadn’t been blind to the way the younger man had controlled his mount while riding in. It was never easy to ride double, especially on such a spirited stallion. “Would you consider...working here...for me?”

Black Hawk frowned. “Is that what you want, Sir?”

“I don’t know _what_ the hell I want...I’m just tryin’ to make sense of this!” Jon spouted angrily. “How long you been beddin’ my daughter?”

“Does it really matter, Sir?”

Jon shrugged. “Is she in the family way?”

Black Hawk raised a brow. “Not any more so than she already was,” he replied. He waited, but when Jon didn’t say anything he went on. “I _love_ her, Sir.”

Jon exhaled loudly. “Let’s go for a ride.”

**~oOo~**

Hannah stood up when the front door swung open and Black Hawk appeared with her father. She frowned as they went down the front steps and moved to follow them.

“Stay put!” her father ordered, pointing a finger in her direction, but not looking at her. Her eyes went to Black Hawk, who gave her a nervous look and a shrug, but continued on. She watched them cross the front yard, enter the barn, then appear again on their horses. Hannah stood again and ran down the steps, stopping in their path.

“Where are you going?” she demanded.

Her father glanced down at her and scowled. “I told you to stay put.”

“But....”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Jon Cooke rolled his eyes at his oldest daughter. “For once in your life, Hannah...would you just do what you’re told!”

Hannah took a step back as if she’d been slapped, but nodded and moved out of their way. Her father said nothing else as he rode past her. Her eyes went next to Black Hawk, whose look said that everything would be all right—though she wondered _how_ as she stood there staring up at him.

_I love you_ , he mouthed silently.

She tried to smile, but it was almost painful. “I love you too,” she whispered as he turned away.

**~oOo~**

For nearly thirty minutes, Black Hawk followed Hannah’s father. They rode north on the wagon trail toward town, passing the spot that they had taken to the river, and never once did Jon Cooke say a word to him—until they came to a trail that forked off the main one.

“Just about five more minutes this way,” Jon called out over his shoulder as he changed directions, not bothering to even look back at him.

Black Hawk stopped and frowned, wondering where Jon Cooke was taking him, and if he should be worried about the man gunning him down. Black Hawk’s eyes went to the firearm that was strapped to the older man’s horse, then worriedly, he glanced at the trail; he’d noticed it before—it was large and well carved, though overgrown slightly from disuse. He’d never explored it, as it ran west and away from the Circle C house and Hannah. For several moments he just watched Jon Cooke’s back. The man never once glanced back to see if he was followed. Sighing, Black Hawk tightened his thighs, signaling to his black to follow. What choice did he have?

And sure enough, within five minutes, the narrow, tree-lined trail opened up to a wide pasture surrounded by white split-rail fencing, with a large house sitting at the far end of it. Black Hawk paused briefly and looked around with a frown. _What are we doing_ here _?_ he wondered. A gentle breeze blew, ruffling his hair and, mysteriously, almost pushing him forward. His frown remained as he slowly rode up the path that split the front yard in half. Sitting at the front of the house, he stared at the man who had already dismounted.

“This was my parents home,” Hannah’s father informed him. He was standing completely still, arms crossed over his chest, on the front porch. “I grew up here.”

Black Hawk slid from his horse and walked slowly up the steps. “Sir?” he questioned.

Jon looked Black Hawk right in the eye and shrugged. “And now it belongs to you and Hannah,” he acquiesced, dropping a set of keys in the younger man’s hand.

Black Hawk stared at the metal objects, then his eyes flew up to meet the icy blue eyes of Jon Cooke. “Sir? I don’t understand.”

“You want to marry my daughter...I want her to live well. Not in some damned tiny hole in town...or that friggin' tepee!” He shrugged. “This is as close to town as I can provide.”

Black Hawk looked from Hannah’s father to the keys, and then to the house and land surrounding him. “Are you saying...that you’ll let me marry Hannah?”

“Can’t really stop ya, now can I?”

“I’d rather that you didn’t try, Sir.”

Jon shrugged. “I really don’t want to lose her...again.” He paused. “You should go look at the house.” He waved a hand at the front door. “It’s large...plenty of room for you and her children...and any others that might come along,” he added with a sigh of defeat.

“She’s not with child, Sir.”

“But she probably will be soon,” Hannah’s father said with another shrug. “It’s only a matter of time.”

Black Hawk sighed. He didn’t know what to say that would placate the other man, and he couldn’t deny what he was implying.

Shaking his head, Jon gestured at the house. “Go on...go look.”

Black Hawk nodded, then turned, unlocked the door and went inside.

**~oOo~**

“It’s a lovely home, Sir,” Black Hawk stated after taking his time looking around. The place was completely furnished from top to bottom, with a large dining area in front and parlor in the back, a more than decent kitchen, five bedrooms and an office on the second level and two more bedrooms on the first. It was more than Black Hawk could ever hope to give a wife. And then he’d gone out back to find a nine-stall barn, gravely in need of work, a corral, and hilly pasture land as far as the eye could see. He had just come back in to find Jon Cooke sitting, head in hands, on a covered couch in the main living space.

“Could you live here?” Jon asked earnestly, not looking up.

Black Hawk frowned and shook his head. “I’d like to, Sir...but I really don’t understand. Why would you do this? You hate me...you hate Indians.”

Jon shook his head. “There’s nothin’ wrong with _you_ , I suppose. No, I’m just an old bastard and I hate losing my control over things,” he admitted. “But that daughter of mine’s been a pain in my side for as long as I can remember...I guess it’s about time someone else dealt with it.” Jon paused and eyed the young man. “But I warn you, you better not hurt her. There‘s no tellin’ what I might do to ya if you do!”

“I love her, Sir, I’d never hurt her.”

Jon sighed. “You should probably start calling me by name, son.”

Black Hawk nearly fled, he so disbelieved what he was hearing. “I could live here. I would love to be able to give this to Hannah...but, you have to let me...compensate for such a generous gift.”

Jon laughed and nodded. “Oh, you will...I expect my sons to work hard. You may not have much ranching experience, but by the time I’m done with ya, ya will.” He paused. “So it’s settled then. You and Hannah will live here. We should go speak to your father...and set a date with the reverend. Have you a ring?”

Black Hawk frowned; this was going faster than his mind could absorb it.

Jon shook his head and waved a hand. “Doesn’t matter...I’m sure Mary has one we can provide, if you don’t.”

Black Hawk recovered then and shook his head. “That is not necessary, Sir....”

“Jon.”

Black Hawk swallowed. This would take getting used to. “I have already ordered a ring... _Jon_.”

Jon smiled. The first real one Black Hawk had seen. “Oh good. Then let’s go...into town and make arrangements.”

“Wait...what about all those horses?”

Jon frowned. “Horses?”

Black Hawk frowned. “Yes, Sir...Jon...all the horses in the back pasture.” He’d seen tons of them, blanketing the hills behind the house.

Jon got up with a sigh, then walked through the house and out the front door before sighing again. “They’re Hannah’s...well...her husband’s...whatever his name was....” He waved a hand dismissively.

“Windwalker,” Black Hawk provided.

“Yes...they were his.” Jon quickly turned away from the younger man. He was fighting hard against the tears of pain and regret that were constricting his chest, tears he refused to allow. “Every year he brought them to me...and every year I sent him away...sent my daughter away.” He almost choked on his words.

Black Hawk nodded, now understanding the man’s pain. He could only imagine what it was like to lose a daughter. Or _any child_ for that matter, he thought, considering his brother’s disappearance and his own father’s grief over it. _His father_ never complained. He never seemed upset. He never showed anger over it. He never even said anything about it, _ever_ , because Daniel Walker knew it was something his youngest son had to do, for himself, and that Eagle would come back when he was good and ready, just as Hannah had. But knowing the loss could have been prevented, as in Hannah’s case, that the fault of her being gone belonged to her father alone, must make it twice as painful for the man.

“How many are there, Sir?” Black Hawk asked. “ _Horses_ , I mean?” he added, seeing confusion in the older man’s eyes.

Jon shrugged and shook his head. “Who knows...that Injun brought more each year,” he said, facing Black Hawk again. “ _Hundreds_?”

Black Hawks eyes widened. “And you’ve done nothing with them?”

“Nope...just brought ‘em here and....” He threw his hands up. “...that’s it! Don’t even feed ‘em, they just live off the land.”

“I see.” Black Hawk ran a hand through his long, black hair. “Hundreds, huh?”

Jon nodded. “Maybe three hundred.”

“Wow...that’s a lot of wild horses.” Black Hawk paused for a moment. “I think Hannah will be grateful to have them back, Sir.”

“Could you live here?” Jon asked again.

Black Hawk gave the property one last glance, then turned back to Hannah’s father and nodded.

“Then we should go into town. There’s a lot to do.”

**~oOo~**

“Please take your sisters out of the room,” Daniel said to his son.

Black Hawk looked from his father to Hannah’s father, then picked up his youngest sister and, taking Lilly’s hand, left the room.

Daniel Walker stood there leaning against the kitchen doorway wall and stared at the man in his living room as he tried to sort out what he had just heard. Jon Cooke, a man he’d seen around town occasionally, but had never once spoken to, was standing before him now, proposing that Black Hawk marry his daughter, right away, _and_ he was offering to give them a home to live in. Daniel was shocked beyond reason.

“Let me get this straight,” he said. “You’re suggesting that our grown children...my son and your daughter...get married?”

Jon gnashed his teeth and shook his head. “Was I speaking another language? ‘cause I think I was fairly clear.”

Daniel narrowed his eyes at the man in his house and stood tall. The two men measured similarly, both roughly six feet two, maybe three, and well built. Both with graying hair, though they had been blond at one time, Daniel’s tending to be a sandy color while Jon’s had been towhead blond in his youth. Both light-eyed, Daniel’s a silvery grey-blue and always friendly, Jon’s a crystal blue and sparking with fire. Both good looking in their own way. Overall they were evenly matched.

“Look, I don’t make my children do anything they don’t want to, and I don’t keep them from doing anything they _do_ want to. My son loves your daughter. I’m not going to argue with you about them marrying.”

“Then why are we sitting here arguing’?” Jon asked. “I’m merely here to inform you that our children have decided to marry. I was hoping I’d have your support in planning the date.”

Daniel crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “Don’t you think the two of _them_ could plan such things? They _are_ grown.”

“No, I don’t! If we left it to them your son would have my daughter with child...and ruined.”

Daniel tried hard not to laugh. Was the man _insane_? It wasn’t like Jon Cooke’s daughter was some innocent young girl—she’d already been married once and was bringing two children to the union. He shook his head to hide his amusement and bit his tongue to keep the sarcastic remark from coming out. He had nothing against Hannah and he didn’t want it to appear as if he did. In fact, he liked her a lot. “All right then. What would you suggest we do?”

Jon sighed in frustration. “We need to visit the reverend...and put an ad in the paper...and send out a notice, so distant relatives can attend. Do you have distant relatives?” he asked, realizing he knew absolutely nothing about the Walkers, other than the fact that they were a family of half-breeds—or so he thought.

“Yes, and some that aren’t so distant,” Daniel said with a shrug. “My parents are in Boston. A brother and his family live there as well. My sister and hers reside in St. Louis. And there are others, scattered about. But Harry’s family is here in town.”

“Harry?”

“My younger brother... _owns Harry’s_.” Daniel’s tone was almost sarcastic, but Jon didn’t seem to notice. Instead, the man nodded.

Jon frowned as he thought about Harry’s. He’d never set foot in that saloon, but he knew of the place. “Is that all?”

Daniel shrugged. “Black Hawk still has some living Cheyenne relatives that I’m sure he’d like to see...I’m not sure how to reach them though,” he said with a shake of his head.

“ _Injuns_?” Jon asked with a frown.

Daniel nodded. “My son _is_ a half-breed...or did you forget.”

Jon’s face reddened. “Of course I didn’t forget,” he snapped. “I just didn’t realize you’d want _them_ to come here.”

Daniel shrugged. “They are part of Black Hawk’s family. They should be given the option to attend or not. What of your family?”

Jon frowned. “Yeah, we have family...lots of ‘em.”

“What about Little Porcupine and Little Snowbird’s family?”

Jon practically blanched. “ _Their father_ is dead.”

Daniel grinned. “Yes, I know that...we wouldn’t be discussing this otherwise, now would we?”

“Well, I don’t know how to reach any of them either, so it doesn’t matter.”

“But it might to your Hannah,” Daniel said. “I think we should try...I think it would mean a lot to her.”

Jon frowned again. “You seem to know a lot about _my_ Hannah, Mr. Walker.”

“Look _Jon_ , don’t you think we should be a little less formal?” Daniel asked. “After all, we’re about to become family.”

With a scratch of his head, Jon Cooke finally nodded. “Fine. Whatever,” he agreed. “So, I’m concerned that getting all these _family members_ here, _Daniel_ , is going to take longer than we have. I want them married right away. _Yesterday_ , if that were possible.”

Daniel frowned. “Why the rush? Why not in a month or two? Or even six months?”

“Because...they’re beddin’ down,” Jon sputtered angrily, his face reddening at being forced to admit such a thing.

Daniel couldn’t help laughing. “You make them sound like cattle, Jon. They are humans, you know...with feelings, and needs.”

“Damn it, Walker, this isn’t funny! What’s the town gonna think if she ends up with a baby in her belly before the wedding?”

Daniel shrugged. “Well, I don’t see how a wedding’s going to make much difference. People are bound to start talking when they find out there’s going to be a wedding between a Cooke and a Walker...they’re bound to start speculating.”

“Well she ain’t your daughter, is she? I want them married proper!”

Daniel nodded and made a valiant effort to hide his amusement. “I do understand your concern....” He paused. “I’ll handle that where Black Hawk’s concerned.”

Jon nodded. “Much obliged. I’ll speak on the matter with Hannah as well. So...about the wedding....”

Daniel frowned again. “Why don’t we just make it a simple affair...say, as soon as the church is available, and then have a gathering later, when family can get here...say, in a month or something. That would give them time to adjust, get the house in order, settle in.”

Jon thought for a moment; he liked the idea. It would be simpler this way and, if they couldn’t keep the two of them apart, well, it wouldn’t matter. “I like it!”

The two men talked for a short time longer, then headed over to the church to make arrangements with Reverend Johnson. The reverend, though utterly surprised at the turn of events, suggested the Wednesday after next, since that was the day most preferred by young ladies of marrying age, but he wanted to speak to Black Hawk and Hannah before setting the date officially. The two fathers agreed to send them in at their earliest convenience.

**~oOo~**

“I’m going to go talk to my son, before he hears gossip,” Jon informed the other man.

Daniel smiled. “Isn’t it only gossip if it’s _not_ true?” he asked. The other man scowled and Daniel let his smile fade. “Besides,” he went on, “I don’t think the sheriff will be too upset. He seems to get on quite well with my Black Hawk.”

Jon ignored Daniel’s comments. “And then I’ll inform the paper,” he continued.

“Don’t you think we should let them do that? That would be an open invitation for just anyone to show up...maybe they don’t want all the townsfolk at their wedding. This wedding is bound to cause some strife. After all, not many of our _saintly citizens_ think my sons and daughters should be allowed to go about their business in town, or that a half-breed should be allowed to marry a white woman.” He wondered if Jon Cooke had any idea what Black Hawk and Hannah had already been facing, just for who they were and for being seen together now and then.

Jon frowned, but nodded. The man had a point; why invite trouble. But they’d have to do something about that, he thought; he couldn’t afford to have people gossiping about the family, it was bad for business.

“So...that’s it then,” he finally said.

Daniel shrugged. “I guess so.” He held out his hand.

Jon Cooke stared at it for a moment, then placed his work-hardened hand in Daniel’s. “See you a week from Wednesday then.”

“Actually...we’ll be in church on Sunday.”

Jon nodded. “Oh right. Of course. I suppose we’ll see you then.”

Daniel started to walk away, then he stopped. “Why don’t we plan on lunch after services this Sunday...just to get everyone together.”

Jon nodded again. “Lunch on Sunday. I’ll have Mary pack a picnic. See you Sunday.”

**~oOo~**

Black Hawk was sitting at home, anxiously awaiting his father’s return when the man walked in the kitchen door. Standing quickly, he stepped over Star, who sat quietly on the floor playing with her doll, and crossed the room. He waited a moment for his father to speak, but when he didn’t Black Hawk huffed.

“Well?”

“The wedding is to be a week from Wednesday,” his father stated with a grin, then hugged his son. “Congratulations, Nae’ha,[2] she’s a lovely girl. I am so happy for you.” Daniel released his son and stepped back. “But the reverend wants to see you and Miss Cooke before the wedding...to discuss things I suppose. I’m afraid we gave him the shock of his life. I can only imagine what was going through his head when I walked in with Jon Cooke.” He laughed. “But there is something I need to discuss with you.”

Black Hawk frowned; he was still processing what his father had just told him. “What is it?”

“I’m going to have to ask that you refrain from...taking Miss Cooke to the furs before the wedding. Her father is worried that she will turn up pregnant before she is properly wed.”

Black Hawk rolled his eyes, but nodded. “I can do that,” he said, knowing that the coming days were going to drag...and yet, it would go by too quickly. He frowned. He was very happy that he was getting what he wanted, but the date was sooner than he’d expected—much sooner than he’d hoped.

“What’s wrong, Nae’ha?” his father asked, noticing the strained look on his son’s face.

“The ring I’ve ordered for Hannah...it will never be here in time.”

“Oh.” Daniel shrugged. “I’m sure it doesn’t matter. I don’t think Miss Cooke will mind.”

“But _I_ do.”

Daniel sighed. “Well...cancel the order. You can give her the ring I gave nesko.[3] It’s a beautiful ring.” He smiled, remembering the day he’d put it on her finger. “It would be nice to see it on a woman again.”

“Mother’s ring _is_ beautiful,” Black Hawk admitted. “And it is...very generous of you, Neho’e,”[4] he said, “...but I want to give her the ring I picked for her. It is the first real thing I have purchased, with money I made on my own.” He shrugged. “I need to do this.”

Daniel nodded. “I understand. Maybe you could just _borrow_ your mother’s ring then...until Hannah’s arrives.”

“You should save that ring for Eagle. He _will_ come back one day.”

Daniel smiled sadly. “Yes, I know...I hope so anyway. But your brother isn’t here now and I’d like you to use the ring for as long as you need it. You can return it to me if and when you would like to, otherwise it is yours.

“Thank you, Neho’e.”

**~oOo~**

Hannah had tried to help out, to keep herself busy. For her mother, she’d prepared food for her brothers to take back out to work with them, washed and hung clothes, entertained the children, and killed the chicken that was to be eaten that night for dinner. And then she’d gone to the barn, where she’d handled all of Hunter’s evening chores. The last thing she did was brush out Whirlwind. She was just coming out of the barn, intent on washing the day’s dirt from herself, when her father appeared out of the trees—alone.

“Where is Black Hawk?” Hannah demanded fearfully as her father rode across the front yard.

“Gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean, _gone_?” She was nearly hysterical. Had her father shot him? she wondered, her eyes instantly going to the man’s gun.

He didn’t answer her.

She watched him pass her. “ _Pa_?”

He still didn’t respond.

She followed him and watched as he calmly got off his horse. Her fury was building. “ _Jonathan Malcolm Cooke_!” she finally shouted. “Answer me now, damn it!” She stamped her foot furiously—childishly.

He stopped then and stared at her, raising his brows questioningly. He was speechless for a moment, then he waved his hand at her. “He’s gone home...for the day. He’ll be back tomorrow.” With that he started unsaddling his horse.

Hannah stared in confusion. “ _Pa_ , you _have_ to tell me what _happened_. Where did you go? What is going on?”

“Not now, Hannah. We’ll discuss it later.”

“Later?”

“Yes...later...as in, _not_ now.”

“But—”

“No! No buts tonight. I told you we’ll discuss it later and we will. Black Hawk is at home, in town where he belongs...and you are to stay here, where _you_ belong,” he added, knowing she’d have thoughts of getting on her horse and riding out.

“But, Pa—”

“Hannah! Go to your room!” He stopped, flustered. “I mean...tepee. Go to your home. Now!”

Hannah glanced at the house. Her mother was standing on the porch watching them, her arms wrapped around her middle in worry. When she looked back at her father she wanted to scream. He was being more than impossible.

“Fine!” she snarled in frustration and, throwing her work gloves on the ground at his feet, she stomped off.

 

Hannah met her mother’s worried gaze as she stormed by, but she didn’t stop. She was too upset, and too angry, to deal with anyone, even her mother who was completely sympathetic about the whole situation.

Why is he so _damned_ controlling? she screamed silently as she rounded the house. She glanced around, her children weren’t there. She frowned. They hadn’t been in front either. That means they’re in the house, she thought, turning quickly to look up at the balcony and the door that led to the playroom where the children were probably playing happily. Dropping her head into her hands and sighing, she went around and stepped into her tepee, slamming the flap closed behind her. For a moment, she just stood there, her eyes filling with tears, then she collapsed onto her pallet and let them fall.

**~oOo~**

Hannah opened her eyes and blinked. Had she heard something? She listened carefully. There it was again, a scratching on her closed flap.

“Hannah...I know you’re in there. Can I come in? _Please_?”

It was her mother. “Sure, Ma, come on in,” she said, getting up to put wood on the fire.

Mary lifted the round closure, then ducked into her daughter’s tepee, crouching slightly to avoid the incline of the structure, then moving in further and kneeling on a thick hide, buffalo she surmised, in front of the fire, her dress pooling around her. It took several moments for her eyes to adjust to the low light, then she took a few more to let her eyes roam; it was the first time she’d ever been in the place her daughter called home, and it was much larger on the inside than it had appeared from the outside. There were three places, slightly raised and covered with furs, which appeared to be beds, the larger one at the back having several thick trade blankets piled on one end and a strange willow-reed headboard with a pelt draped over its top at the other, and lined with intricately decorated pillows. The other two beds, though smaller, were similarly adorned, minus what Mary would soon learn to be a backrest.

Sitting to the side of the fire, and her daughter who now knelt silently at the back of her home, Mary looked over her head at the walls of the tepee. Several fringed and bead-decorated bags hung, or were strapped to the walls. She could see what appeared to be a bow and a quiver of arrows, covered partially by a flat, round painted object from which hung several feathers.

All around her she saw what made this place home to her daughter.

After filling her eyes with her surroundings, Mary focused on Hannah. Her daughter’s face was dirty and streaked with tears that had dried on her cheeks, and her shoulder-length hair was hanging in disarray, both braids having come loose.

“Han _nah_.” Mary said, scooting up next to her daughter to caress a cheek. She looked around, her eyes coming to a container that appeared to be holding water. “Is this water?” she asked hopefully. When Hannah nodded, Mary leaned forward and dipped her apron into it, then brought it up and began wiping her daughter’s face. Hannah sighed and closed her eyes, enjoying the personal attention. It had been _years_ since she had had this from her mother and it felt good.

“If you’ll come inside, I’ll make you a cup of tea,” Mary offered. When Hannah hesitated, she tried again. “Please Hannah...we need to talk. Your father didn’t want to discuss it tonight, but you should know...tonight.”

Hannah glanced up quickly in surprise. “Know what, Ma?”

Mary sighed, then shook her head. “Inside.”

“Where are Little Porcupine and Little Snowbird?”

“They are inside, sleeping in Robbie and Katie’s bedroom.”

Hannah frowned, then nodded. “All right, Ma, let’s go in.”

**~oOo~**

Hannah stared at her mother in shock, so disbelieving she was of what the woman had just told her. _Married_? Her father had agreed to let her _marry_ Black Hawk? It was so farfetched that she just sat there with her jaw practically on the floor.

“Hannah, please...say _something_ ,” Mary prompted.

Hannah shook her head and shrugged. “What do you want me to say?”

Mary smiled, then set her tea cup down and got up to hug her daughter. With tears of joy, she held out her arms and Hannah just melted into them. For several minutes they sat there together, Hannah resting her head on her mother’s shoulder and Mary rocking her daughter gently as if she were still a little girl. It wasn’t often that her eldest daughter allowed this and she was taking full advantage of it. When Hannah finally moved to pull away, Mary held tight, for just a moment longer, then released her. Somehow, the little bit of contact closed the empty gap that had lain open for the past seven years.

“How about, _thank the Lord_?”

Hannah tried to smile. She _was_ thankful, but she still didn’t understand her father’s need to control everything. Why couldn’t he have included her in the planning of her future? Or at least _told_ her about it himself? Why did she have to find out, _in the middle of the night_ , from her mother? And where was Black Hawk? They should have been able to do this together. They should have been able to stand side by side when they announced their intention to marry. Hannah frowned in frustration at what had been taken from her, but then a smile crept into her eyes at the thought of standing next to Black Hawk for the rest of her life. And though she was angry with her father, for what he had done, she smiled with joy for being given a second chance at love.

 

[1]. veho’e – white man

[2]. Nae’ha – Son

[3]. nesko (neško) – your mother

[4]. Neho’e (Ného’e) - Father


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sooo sorry I haven't posted in a while. I'm on day nine of thirteen days of work in a row and I'm just sooo tired. But here's the next chapter...

** CHAPTER THIRTY **

“Hannah,” Magen called out as she rapped on the closed flap of her sister’s lodge.

No answer.

“ _Hannah_ ,” she said impatiently, this time ignoring what her sister said was good tepee etiquette by throwing the flap open and poking her head inside without an invitation.

Hannah groaned and opened her eyes a slit, then snapped them shut as the brightness of the day invaded through the open doorway. She had stayed inside drinking tea and talking with her mother for hours, leaving the house very late at night. And then, after going into her own domain, she’d lain awake for several more hours; it was nearly morning by the time she had finally fallen asleep.

“Hannah!” Magen said again, crouching over her sister’s head and tapping her shoulder impatiently. “I know you’re awake, I heard you and I saw your eyes open.”

Hannah groaned again and tried to focus. “What time is it?” she finally asked as she reached up to scratch Gopher’s neck. Her dog had slept beside her, but had gone out at some point. He could let himself out, but usually couldn’t get back in unless someone opened the door for him; he had come back in with Magen.

“After eleven.”

Hannah bolted up, just missing her sister’s head in the process. “Eleven!” She hadn’t slept so late since she was a small child. “Where are my children? They need to eat,” she exclaimed, her falling blanket leaving her bare as she jumped to her feet.

Magen gasped. “You sleep without nightclothes on?”

Hannah glanced down at her nakedness and nodded, but had a dress pulled on the next moment. “I don’t own any,” she said as she slipped her bare feet into her moccasins. “That is why I borrowed yours when we were in town.” Then reaching for her water bags, she stepped outside and started for the river. “Why did you let me sleep so late?” she threw over her shoulder.

“You don’t need to get water, Hannah,” Magen said, knowing that’s where her sister was headed. “Ma’s already fed the children. I didn’t wake you for that.”

Hannah stopped and turned around, a frown creasing her forehead as she set the water bags down. “Is everything all right, Magen? Why didn‘t someone wake me sooner?”

“Ma said to let you sleep. And yes, everything is fine.” Magen grinned. “Ma wanted me to tell you that Michael just rode up...with Black Hawk.”

Hannah’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Ma said to tell you....”

Hannah held up her hand and shook her head. “I heard you, Magen. Where is Pa?”

Magen frowned. “On the porch...smoking.”

“Pa knows that Black Hawk is here?”

Magen nodded. “Of course. He’s the one that saw him first. He sent me in to tell Ma and she sent me out to tell you.”

Her brow still knotted in confusion, Hannah strode back into her tepee, pulled out her brush and started ripping it through the snarls in her hair.

“Here, let me do that,” Magen offered with a smile as she lifted the brush from her sister’s hand and began to gently comb through her now lengthening hair. “You’re going to completely rip it from your head.” It was just slightly past her shoulders now and healthy once again, but matted from sleeping restlessly upon it.

“How do you want it?” Magen asked, fully expecting Hannah to want it plaited.

 

“Down is fine,” Hannah replied, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the calming strokes of the brush and her sister’s fingers running through her hair.

Magen brushed silently for a few moments, then finishing, set the brush down and smiled sadly. “So, Ma told me that you’re getting married.” She was almost pouting. Her sister had only just come home and now she would be leaving again. Hannah seemed to read her mind.

“Ahh, Meg, I will not be far from here...just half an hour away in Grandpa and Grandma Cooke’s old house. We’ll be here all the time and you can visit us any time you want. You can even stay over sometimes.”

A single tear slipped from Magen’s eye. “I know...it’s just so soon. I was hoping we’d have a chance to get to know each other better...before you moved out again. I never thought you’d be getting married so soon after coming home.”

Hannah smiled and wiped her sister’s tear away. She knew this would be difficult, and worried about how the littler ones were going to take it, but she was too happy to let these things dampen her joy.

“I know, I didn’t think this would happen so soon either.” Or _ever_ , she mused to herself. “But we will have plenty of time together...I promise.”

Magen sniffled, but smiled. She _was_ happy for her sister. And, she was happy for herself as well. Her sister was home and she could see her anytime she wanted to. Having Hannah just a thirty minute ride away was much better than having no idea _where_ she was. She would try to remember it that way when she got sad.

“Come now, let us join my _fiancée_.”

 

Black Hawk was sitting on the porch with Hannah’s father and brothers when she came around the house with her sister. His breath caught in his throat as he rose to greet her. He noticed that her steps slowed as she came up the steps, clearly nervous about this first meeting after the day before. He glanced once at her father. Though the older man’s look was impassive, Black Hawk knew he’d been given permission to approach his daughter. He turned then to Hannah and embraced her.

“How did you sleep?” he asked her quietly.

She glanced at her father and brothers, who watched in silence. It was Friday; normally they would be out working, but Black Hawk’s expected arrival had kept them home, still lounging at almost noon. Usually nothing kept her father from work; his actions on this day spoke volumes; he had relented fully, and was finally willing to give her control of her own life. _One down, six to go_ , she thought, hoping her brothers and sisters had less trouble obtaining autonomy than she had.

Hannah met each of her brother’s eyes briefly; Michael’s eyes sparkled with happiness for her, as did James’ and Hunter’s. Then she looked back at the man she loved.

“I did not sleep long enough, I think. But that is my fault...I did not go to bed when I should have. I am glad that you are here.” She paused. She’d known he was coming; her father had told her so—but why? “Why _are_ you here?” she asked, wishing she’d thought to ask her mother the night before.

“The two of you need to go see the reverend,” her father cut in. “I told him you’d be in as soon as possible. After we eat, Michael and James will take you two into town.”

Hannah raised her brow. “Chaperones?”

“Yep,” Jon said evenly. He wasn’t about to let his daughter have a moment without a watchful eye on her. It was clear to him that she didn’t care what others thought—but he did.

“Do you really think that is necessary, Pa?”

“Damned straight!”

Everyone tensed. And Hannah started to object, but a gentle squeeze of her hand stopped her. Her eyes swung up to Black Hawk’s; she calmed immediately, giving an almost indiscernible nod of assent.

Jon watched silently, pleased that at least her intended seemed to be capable of keeping her temper in check.

“May I take your daughter for a walk, Sir?” Black Hawk asked, turning to toward the older man. He saw the man’s lip twitch and remembered that he was supposed to have called him by name.

Jon nodded. “Don’t be gone long though. Mary will have lunch ready shortly.” He paused and watched them descend the steps. “And stay where we can see you,” he called out after them.

Black Hawk halted and looked at his soon-to-be father-in-law. “We will, Jon,” he said, then led Hannah away.

 

Hannah and Black Hawk walked along the northern fencing, just as they had the first evening he had come out to dine with her family. But this time was different; they did not have to hide how they felt now. Reaching out, he slipped his hand into hers and pulled her along until they were as far away as they could possibly go and still be in sight of her father’s house and those watching. Stopping there, he spun her around and into his arms. With a glance over her head at her father’s house, he held her face between his hands and hazarded a kiss on her forehead. Her eyes drooped closed as the warmth of his lips brushed across her skin, and he sighed contentedly as he held her against him.

“Is this really happening?” she whispered as she clung to him, her eyes opening once again to stare into the depths of his glittering gray ones. She was still doubtful and saw that he was as well.

He kissed her again, to reassure them both, then nodded. “Yes...and I feel so lucky,” he said, pulling her against his hard chest and resting his chin on the top of her head. “I thought I was going to have to come in here and kidnap you in order to marry you.”

She laughed.

“I could not believe it when your father dropped that key in my hand yesterday and agreed to let me marry you. It still feels like a dream...like I could awake at any moment to find that none of this has happened.”

“I understand the feeling. I feel the same way.” She snuggled into his arms. “I did not want to sleep last night, fought it until the sun was almost up...afraid that if I slept, I would wake up and this would not be real.”

He squeezed her, then held her away from him. “Oh, it’s _real_ all right, and I’m not going to let anyone take this away from us...we just have to get through the next twelve days.” He knew it wasn’t going to be an easy time for either of them. They’d already suffered a great deal of harassment and that was before most even had a clue that they were spending time together. But on Sunday all would know for sure when it was announced in church. Dealing with the townspeople after that was going to be pure hell, and it certainly wasn’t going to make the time go any faster. He just hoped there would be no real trouble and that the _waiting_ would be the only true hardship. He knew the wait would be worth it. That, in less than two week’s time, this woman would be his. Taking her hand, he walked her to the fence where he grasped her waist and lifted her to sit upon it, then settled himself between her legs and looked up at her.

“I’ve ordered you a ring, but it won’t be here in time for our wedding,” he said disappointedly.

She smiled. “That does not matter. I just want to be your wife.”

He nodded. He had known that she would not care about such things, but he couldn’t help but feel bad. He wanted her to have it the day they were married.

“But I do have a ring for you to wear until yours arrives,” he said as he pulled a small box from his pocket and opened it to reveal a simple gold solitaire ring. “ _This_ , was my mother’s. My father gave it to me to give to you...and I would like you to wear it.” He looked at her nervously, praying that she wouldn’t mind wearing someone else’s ring. “Will you wear it?” he asked hopefully.

She nodded silently as tears filled her eyes. With a smile he reached out and slipped it on her finger, then brought her hands to his lips and kissed them.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“And I love you,” he said, his voice deep and full of emotion. Then, without a thought to those that watched from the house, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her from the fence and against his body. Slowly, he let her slide down his length, groaning as she pushed her hips against him in invitation. He hardened instantly.

“Oh woman! How ever am I going to stand waiting to take you to my bed?” he asked, slipping his hands to her rear end and holding her still against him.

“Less than two weeks...twelve days is not _that_ long.” She smiled playfully, then wiggled just enough to elicit another deep moan from the man.

He grinned. “You do not play fair.” He looked over her shoulder to see one of her brothers heading toward them; their _alone time_ was coming to an end. “And you know damned well that I cannot do anything about it now,” he said, nodding in the direction of the house. “But I will get even...I promise you that.” With that he set her on the ground.

She laughed. “Oh, I hope so...I truly hope that you do.”

**~oOo~**

“I’ll see you over to the reverend, but I can’t stay. I have a mountain of work that has to get done if I’m going to have time to lunch with our families tomorrow,” Michael said with a sigh. “James will take you back home.”

Hannah nodded and smiled indulgently at her eldest brother. She thought the escort ridiculous, but had to admit she enjoyed the company of her brothers. Riding at a medium gait, she sat on her mount with Michael on one side and Black Hawk on the other. Her brother James rode his buckskin just slightly behind. She grinned at him over her shoulder, warmed when he returned her smile. She had always had a comfortable relationship with Michael, but this newfound friendship with James was refreshing.

“And will you be riding back with us, Black Hawk?” she asked hopefully, but already knowing the answer.

“No!” all three men said in unison.

Hannah giggled.

 

As the group turned onto Main Street, a few eyes followed them as they rode on toward the end of town where the small town church sat, but no one said a word—at least not to them. But once they were out of sight, the whispers began. How the news had gotten out, no one could say, but everyone had heard the rumors that were circulating and all wondered if they were true. Was Jon Cooke truly allowing his daughter to marry the breed? Some weren’t surprised, of course. After all, she _was_ a white squaw, ruined after spending seven years with the dirty savages. Who else was there for the woman, but the breed? She’d even birthed two of them herself. But many more were still deeply offended that a white man could permit this tragedy to continue by letting her marry another one. It was _disgusting_ , those people said, thinking it not right that this be allowed to occur. And then there was the reverend. Had he agreed to marry the couple, to bless them -with his words of God? And of course, there were a few that didn’t give a damn either way, as it didn’t affect them in the slightest—but they were in the minority.

 

“Good afternoon Miss Cooke...Mr. Walker,” the reverend’s wife said with a smile as they entered the empty church. “My husband will be right in. He is just wrapping up some previous business. I’ll just leave you here to wait. He won’t be too long...just make yourselves comfortable.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Johnson,” Hannah said.

“Ma’am,” Black Hawk replied as he tipped his hat.

Hannah moved immediately to the pew where her family always sat, the second one on the left, and lowered herself to the familiar bench. Black Hawk followed her, but slowly. He felt odd sitting so close to the front of the church when his family‘s usual place was in the back. For the three years he had lived in Little Creek, the Walker family, his father and his sisters, and even his uncle’s family, and on that one occasion he as well, had never sat any place else, preferring instead to keep quiet and not make any waves. It was not something he had done easily, but for the sake of his family he _had_ done it. That was mostly why he didn’t attend church, because it was simply too hard to keep his mouth shut. Awkwardly, he sat beside Hannah, holding her hand to give and take strength in their first public declaration together.

“Nervous?” he finally asked after a few minutes of sitting in silence.

She shook her head with an adamancy she did not feel, then smiled. “Maybe a little,” she said shyly.

“Just twelve days and then we won’t have to worry anymore...you’ll be mine and I’ll be yours,” he said, squeezing her hand lovingly, then leaning in to kiss her.

She gripped his hand back, her smile widening as his lips moved over hers. “That is all that I want...for us to belong to each other,” she whispered between kisses.

“Well then, I think this meeting is completely unnecessary!”

Startled, both Hannah and Black Hawk abruptly sat apart from one another and stood. Reverend Johnson was standing at the side door of the church smiling at them, a hint of amusement in his eyes. Nervously, Hannah reached up to dry the kiss from her lips, then threaded her fingers into Black Hawk’s as they moved to greet the man.

“Good afternoon, Reverend. We were just....” Her voice trailed off.

“...waiting for you,” Black Hawk finished. Hannah nodded.

The reverend chuckled. “There is nothing wrong with a little kissing.”

Both of them stared at him for a moment, then smiled nervously.

“And finishing each other’s sentences already? That’s a very good sign.”

The young couple seemed to relax at the reverend’s words. “So,” he went on. “I suppose I don’t have to worry that your fathers are forcing this marriage?” the reverend asked after shaking their hands.

Hannah and Black Hawk looked at one another, then smiled at the man, their nervousness suddenly gone. “Oh no, this is what we want,” Hannah said. Black Hawk was nodding his agreement.

The reverend smiled and released his breath. “Oh good...I am so pleased to hear this. I must admit that when your fathers came in here to make _arrangements_ , I was a little leery. But, this is good, very good indeed. Congratulations to the both of you.”

“Thank you Reverend,” Black Hawk said with a blush. “And thank you for agreeing to marry us.”

It was hard to see with his dark features, but Hannah could tell he was embarrassed, as if he wasn’t sure he belonged. She squeezed his hand reassuringly, then looked at the preacher.

“Yes, Reverend, thank you so much.”

**~oOo~**

The meeting with the reverend didn’t take long. The man just wanted reassurance that the couple had not been talked into this marriage, or worse yet, that they weren’t being forced into it. Sadly, it happened far too often when young people got carried away with pleasures of the flesh and did not hold off to be properly wed, forcing fathers to give their daughters to men they otherwise would not have. Such was not the case here—at least not in regard to their fathers forcing the union. Reverend Johnson was more than sufficiently satisfied that these two loved one another deeply.

Waving as the couple rode off with their chaperone, the reverend smiled to himself, then went back to working on the next Sunday’s sermon.

**~oOo~**

“How did it go?” Mary asked. She had followed her daughter into the barn and now stood watching as the younger woman first, pulled her riding blanket from her horse and hung it over the stall railing, then gave a slap to its rump so that she would move aside.

“It went well, Ma,” Hannah said as she turned to unsaddle her brother’s horse. “The reverend just wanted to make sure Pa wasn’t forcing us into marriage.” She moved then to saddle another horse so that her brother could ride out to meet their father in the pasture.

“James can do that himself, you know,” Mary commented as she continued to watch her daughter.

Hannah settled the saddle, with fresh padding beneath it, on the horse she’d tied to the barn rail, then reached under it to secure it in place. “I know, Ma, but James wanted to change his clothes before riding out. I had to come in here anyway, so I offered to help. It’s the least I could do since it was _me_ who kept him from his work for most of the day.”

Mary smiled at her daughter. She certainly wasn’t afraid of work. “Your father _is_ concerned about the fencing in the east pasture.”

Hannah elbowed the horse in the middle and pulled hard on its girth strap, then reached for a bridle. “Did Pa want me to ride out? There is some light left...I could get a few rails up.”

“I don’t think so. He’s sent Hunter out with a few hands to work on it.”

Hannah frowned. “Which ones?” She was still unsure about the one called Kyle. After their last contact late that one night, she had worked with him several times; he didn’t seem to like working for her, or with her for that matter, and made every effort to stay clear of her. She had noticed him watching her on more than one occasion during their efforts to erect fences, but he‘d never said more to her than _yes ma‘am_ or _no ma‘am_ , even when she‘d asked him questions that required more of an answer than that. She’d often wondered what that was about, but had put it out of her mind; she really didn’t have time to deal with people such as that. Though it bothered her that people disliked her for the choices she had made, she refused to allow those people to bring her down, even when she had to see them on a daily basis.

Mary shrugged. “Oh Hannah, I don’t know. I don’t keep track of which men go where. You know that.”

Hannah reached for her riding blanket. “I’ll ride out,” she informed, thinking it best to check on her brother.

“Oh Hannah _please_...don’t do that, it’s getting late now. Hunter will be starting home before you could even get out to him. Besides...I wanted to talk about your wedding.”

Hannah continued to frown.

“Hunter’s fine with the hands. Don’t forget that he’s worked with them for years.”

It couldn’t really be _years_ , Hannah thought. After all, he was only fifteen, and Hannah couldn’t imagine her mother allowing him to start such work before a year ago. But, with a sigh, Hannah nodded her acceptance about not riding out after her brother. “All right, Ma, you win.”

Mary smiled, pleased that her daughter had capitulated so easily. She’d honestly expected to have to argue about it. She assumed her daughter was thoroughly worn out from the battle of wills she had just won over her father. Mary knew that _she_ was exhausted, and she hadn’t played any part in the fight between father and daughter; Hannah _must be_ drained.

Shifting on her feet, she wondered if she should bring up what she’d come out to tell her daughter. It was something they needed to discuss, so, apprehensively she said, “I’ve taken out my wedding dress.”

Hannah stopped working and stared at her mother.

“Ma, I cannot wear your dress...it is white.” Everyone knew a bride did not wear white for a second joining. What was wrong with her mother?

“Well, you’re not wearing _that_ ,” Mary said, eyeing the mid-calf length doeskin dress her daughter had on—one of many she had brought with her. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a beautiful dress... _strikingly_ beautiful,” she added quickly. “But it’s not appropriate for a church wedding.”

Hannah glanced down at her dress and frowned. “It’s brown, Ma...it’s perfect.” Brown was often the color mature women in their twenties wore to their weddings.

Mary raised a brow. “Indulge your mother...let me enjoy this moment. You don’t have to wear _my_ gown...if you don’t want to. We’ll find you one that suits _you_. But...come in and see my dress... _please_.”

With a long look at her mothers pleading eyes, Hannah finally nodded—it would not hurt to go look at the dress.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a second chapter for you today...because I made you wait. ♥

** CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE **

Hannah sat nervously with her family. It was Sunday and they were in church, and she was staring up at the man behind the pulpit, waiting for him to continue. He had paused after the final hymn and was waiting while everyone put their books away. This was not the time he usually made his announcements. Most often he did that before services began. But Black Hawk hadn’t yet arrived, though the rest of his family was present, and the reverend couldn’t very well announce their engagement without the bridegroom in attendance. Hannah couldn’t help the worry she felt as she glanced back over her shoulder at Black Hawk’s father. The older man only frowned.

_Where could he be_? she wondered as she brought her gaze back up to the front of the room.

Looking around, the reverend gave her a slight shrug; he could wait no longer.

“First,” he began after taking a deep breath, “It saddens me to inform you that Allison Moore passed on late last night. As most of you already know, she was ill for quite some time. Funeral services will be held tomorrow morning. I pray that as many of you as possible will be able to attend. I know not many of us knew her very well, since she came from Boston, but I’m sure all would agree that she was an asset to our small town, and that she made Kevin very happy. Let us all bow our heads as we pray for the Moore family,” the reverend said.

Everyone’s heads dropped.

“May the Lord give them the strength they need to get through these troubling times, and I hope all will lend support to them in their time of need. We all know how much Kevin loved Mrs. Moore.”

The entire congregation was nodding. The death of such a young woman was indeed sad, though it had been expected; Mrs. Moore had come to Little Creek as a mail-order bride, but hadn’t weathered the journey well; she had been ill since the day she had arrived and no amount of the doctor’s medicines had been able to cure her.

Hannah bowed her head along with everyone else. She had known Kevin Moore since childhood. They had attended school together, along with most of the other young adults still living in town. Kevin was just a year older than she and had always been friendly toward her. Since returning to Little Creek though, she hadn’t seen him around town once, and she hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting the man’s wife—she hadn’t even known he was married. She wondered at the circumstances of the young woman’s death. It hadn’t been childbirth was all that she knew, and that was only because Magen had leaned over to whisper that she had been barren.

“My second announcement might come as a shock to everyone, or maybe not, if you have been paying attention,” he went on with a slight smile. “But, I am also saddened to let you know that, in the fall, we will be looking to hire a new teacher, as my daughter will be moving to Denver.”

There were several sad moans from the children; they all loved Miss Cassandra Johnson. She was pretty and nice, and a wonderful teacher.

“I am pleased, however, to tell you that she will be getting married.”

Everyone smiled and many words of congratulations went out to the woman from those nearest to her. She was old to be getting married, twenty-eight was considered old for a first marriage, but she had committed herself wholly to teaching, until Mr. Wright came along and swept her off her feet. All knew that the man had been courting her for over a year and that it was a good match, but no one wanted to lose their beloved teacher, so the news was bittersweet.

A noise at the door drew the reverend’s eyes. With a frown, he glanced down at Hannah, giving her an indiscernible shake of his head, then the man went on.

“And, all may have noticed that Benjamin and Kelly Carter are not in church this morning,” he said, smiling. “Mrs. Carter gave birth to a healthy boy late last night, so they are a mite busy this morning, but I’m sure they would appreciate a visit in the near future.”

Again there were smiles and nods, and people started chatting, as if the reverend were finished, though he hadn’t ended services or stepped from the podium. With another glance down at Hannah, he decided to call a close to the morning; he could stall no further.

Slowly, he raised his hand to get everyone attention—and that is when the door opened again. And this time, it was Black Hawk who stepped through, pausing as he let it close silently behind him. With a relieved look, the reverend smiled and waited for the room to quiet.

“And finally, I am pleased to announce that Miss Cooke will be wed a week from this Wednesday, at ten o’clock in the morning,” he said as he beckoned Black Hawk forward.

Stunned silence met the announcement as people stared at their preacher. Some, the more oblivious ones, wondered which Miss Cooke the reverend was even talking about; Magen wasn’t being courted by anyone that they knew of, and certainly not by the half-breed. And who, in his right mind, would marry the white squaw and take on _her_ two half-breeds? Others knew exactly which Cooke girl the reverend meant. After all, it seemed that the entire town had been gossiping about her return. But soon, as Black Hawk walked up the center aisle and reached out a hand to help Hannah Cooke stand beside him, it became clear to all.

“Mr. Walker here,” he said, holding his hand out to present the man who now stood at the front of the room, holding the hand of his intended, “has asked for permission to marry Miss Cooke...and her father has granted it. Let us all offer our congratulations for the joyous day ahead of them and wish them luck in their joining.”

For a moment, the people seemed to be unable to speak, then a buzz of conversation went through the room, and finally angry words erupted.

“Reverend! You can’t allow this...this _wedding_ to take place?” roared a voice from the back of the room. “It’s indecent!”

There were nods of agreement and other words of protest.

Another said, “They shouldn’t even be allowed to be here!” as he gesticulated angrily at the growing group of those with Indian blood.

“This is the house of the Lord, gentlemen...anyone and _everyone_ is welcome within these walls. Have I ever turned away those wishing to attend or to be married here?” The reverend looked around the room, hoping someone would speak up, but was disappointed when nobody did. “It would not be right to do so now.”

“When have we ever allowed savages to marry in our church, Reverend?” another called out.

“Now wait just a minute!” growled Jon Cooke, on his feet and turning on the crowd at the mention of savages. “What gives you the right to exclude any person who wishes to come here...to marry here?”

“Like the reverend said, this is the house of God...it is not the place for some non-believing savage and his squaw!”

“And what makes you think this man is a nonbeliever?” he asked, ignoring, for the moment, the derogatory comment about his daughter.

“Well...well...his lack of attendance attests to it,” some woman sputtered.

Jon looked at the woman who spoke. She sat all prim and proper in the middle of the church. “Don’t you think that’s because he’s treated so poorly by nearly every person in this town? I, myself, am guilty of this, but when was the last time you said so much as hello to this man?”

The woman looked away and did not answer. She clearly felt it beneath her to comment.

“Would _you_ go somewhere if you felt unwanted, Mrs. Barnes?

Pursing her thin lips, she snapped her head back and scowled at the tall, blond ranch owner. “We were not speaking about me, Mr. Cooke. _This_ is about the half-breed.” Many were nodding their agreement with her words. “We do not want the likes of him... _them_ ,” she amended with a gesture at the rest of those with Indian blood, “in our presence!”

“This man who has done _nothing_ to you...to any one of you!” While Jon Cooke glared at the members of the congregation, he wondered how his daughter’s future father-in-law could sit so passively, listening to the townspeople making disparaging remarks about his family.

“No Jon, _this_ Injun hasn’t!” another person put in, standing up to join the conversation. “But there’s been too much trouble in the area to just ignore what’s plain to see. _Injuns_ is bad news! We allowed Daniel to live here with his squaw and little breeds because we know his brother Harry. But now look what we have, _more_ savages.” The speaker indicated Hannah’s son and daughter. “Pretty soon the town’s gonna to be overrun with ‘em. We don’t want that!”

Hannah squared her shoulders when the man gestured at her children, lifting her chin as she faced those speaking out against her.

“ _You have allowed_?!” she burst out, unable to hold back any longer.

“Hannah, it’s okay,” Black Hawk whispered. But she went on anyway, too angry to stay her words.

“You have allowed _nothing_. You shun Dr. Walker and his beautiful children, unless you need their services for your animals. You do not let them into most of your establishments. Is their money worth less than yours?” Hannah gasped. “You do not even allow Lilly to attend school with the other children. Is not her education just as important to this town as anyone else’s children’s? Black Hawk had to go _all the way to Boston_ to receive an education. I’d venture to guess that he’s one of the most educated men in this silly little town, and you treat him as if he were a vagrant. If they are to live here, and there’s no changing that they _do_ live here, should they not receive the same opportunities as everyone else, so that the town can grow and prosper equally? Do you _want them_ to grow up ignorant? Burdens on society? That does not make sense! That is bad for the town as a whole! The way _I_ see it, you allow _nothing_! What is wrong with you people?” she demanded angrily.

No one bothered to answer her. Most refused to even meet her eyes. Hannah visibly shook in her frustration, but took a deep breath when she saw Black Hawk’s father’s sad expression. She wished he’d say something, but she knew from Black Hawk that his father had no intention of making waves in town. _Fine_! she thought. She didn’t mind creating them.

“Three years ago, Doctor Grey refused to assist Mrs. Walker when she labored to bring Red Star into the world, and as a result, she died, leaving her four children motherless. I was not here then, but I ask you, what is more savage than that?”

“Now wait just a minute, Miss Cooke!” Doctor Grey exclaimed as he jumped to his feet. “I have the right to refuse my services to anyone I please.”

“No, you do not, Doctor Grey. The job you do as our town’s only _people_ doctor is different; you took an oath to help those in need. Your choice was unethical.”

“How _dare_ you!” the doctor snarled. “Just see if I help _you_ when this heathen plants his seed in you. Just try to find a doctor that’s willing to deliver your little breeds!”

Several women in the room gasped at the doctor’s harsh words. They may have agreed with his decision to turn away Morning Star Walker, and now her children, but his crudeness was uncalled for; there were ladies and children present. They began to look at the doctor with disgust.

“If you think, Doctor Grey, that I would trust my life, or the lives of my children, to _your_ hands, then you are insane. I would rather slowly bleed to death than have a man such as you attending me.”

“Well good then! You keep your little red bastards away from me and my clinic!” he sputtered angrily as he stood and rushed from the room.

“It should not matter what color a person’s skin is, Doctor Grey,” Hannah hollered after him. “We are all children of God.”

The entire room jumped when the church doors slammed, shaking the walls and rattling the windows. Faces were red, with anger and embarrassment, and confusion over the words that had been spoken. A few got up and followed the doctor out, but most just sat there, staring, seemingly unable to move. Hannah used the moment, her voice calm and quiet, to address those who had stayed, before their stunned silence came to an end.

“The color of one’s skin does not, in any way, make him or her good or bad. I have seen much bad in my lifetime...from a variety of people. It is true that the Indians have committed many atrocities...I have had to bear witness to some of them...but they are not alone in their wrongdoings. Surely you all must know this,” she said with a frown. “There are plenty of evil white men! There are even some right here in this town...in this very church.” She did not look at anyone in particular.

“What do you know about such things, Miss Cooke?” a man demanded. “Until you ran away to be with that _Injun_ you lived a rather sheltered life, enough money to buy what you need and want, and plenty of protection from any kind of harm. _Hell_ , your brother is our sheriff! When have you ever been hurt by any white man?”

Hannah shook her head. She refused to make her troubles known to the townspeople. “That is not the point, Sir. I—”

“Then you don’t know what yer talkin’ about!”

“No! _You_ don’t know what you’re talking about, Zachariah!” another man snapped.

Hannah was surprised to see Kyle, her father’s hand, standing up at the back of the room, his fists clenched at his sides.

The man called Zachariah frowned. “What do ya mean by that, Kyle? She’s trash...you’ve said it enough times yerself.”

Kyle blushed as he glanced at Hannah and her father, then back at the rest of the people. “Yes...I have said things like that, and worse I’m afraid. All I can say now is that I was wrong about her and I’m sorry. No one here knows Miss Cooke very well if that’s what they think about her. She’s gentle and kind, even to those who don’t deserve her kindness. And she’s a damned hard worker. Sorry Reverend,” he said after throwing out that curse. “And I should know too, I’ve been working with her for weeks now.” He paused. “And she _has been_ hurt by white men,” he added. “And I’m not talking about before she ran away, because I wasn’t around then. I’m talkin’ ‘bout now. Working so closely with her these past few weeks has made it impossible to miss what _someone’s_ done to her.”

People eyed Hannah as she stood before them.

“What are you talking about, Kyle?” Jon Cooke demanded.

“Look at your daughter, Sir,” Kyle said. “There’s no question in my mind that she’s received some abuse...and recently. _Someone_ in this town has raised a hand to her. And, from what I’ve seen, it’s not the first time...there have been other incidents since I’ve been working for you.”

Jon stared hard at the young man who worked for him then he moved forward to stand next to his daughter. When she tried to avoid his perusal, he reached out and tilted her head back so he could get a better look at her. There were faint marks on her cheek and a fading yellowish bruise on her neck. Shocked, he wondered why he hadn’t seen them before.

“Who’s done this to you?” he whispered. When she didn’t answer he turned on the crowd and shouted, “ _Who’s done this to_ my _daughter_?” People only looked away. Angry and frustrated, Jon released Hannah and moved to the end of the second pew where he held out a hand to his wife. “Good day, Reverend. We will be in attendance on the morrow!”

And with that, Jon Cooke took his family out of the town’s small church. They were followed by the Walkers, both Black Hawk’s father and his aunt and uncle and all the children. And then slowly, by everyone else.

 

“I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me, Hannah,” he said once they had reached the grassy area where they had planned to have their picnic.

“There was nothing you could have done, Pa.”

“Yes, there is! I could have watched you closer. I could have made sure you had someone watching you at all times. I could have....” He stopped. “What? Why are you smiling?”

“I _had_ someone watching me most of the time, Pa. That is the extra work that Black Hawk was doing for Michael. The last thing I needed was another man watching over me.”

Jon stared at his daughter’s sad face. Though her lips turned up, her eyes were filled with pain. He could not help but feel that he was the cause of it. Reaching out, the rough man gathered his daughter into his arms and held her briefly.

“I’m so sorry, Hannah,” he said after stiffening away again. “I’m sorry I chased you away...and I’m sorry about how badly I’ve treated you and your children. I have much to make up to you. And I will...I promise.”

Hannah smiled again. She knew how difficult it was for her father to admit he had been wrong. “Oh Pa, don’t you see...you’ve already made up for the past. By accepting Black Hawk, you have made me very happy. I am no longer angry with you. You will never know how much it means to me that you stood up for us in front of the entire town. I am very grateful and, though he does not say it, Black Hawk is grateful too.” Her eyes had gone to the man she would marry the following week, then swung back to her father. “He is very much like his father that way...they are quiet men.”

“And I don’t understand that either!” he snapped. “How can they just sit there and passively say _nothing_ while the town rises against them?”

“Not everyone flies off the handle like we do, Pa,” Hannah said teasingly.

Jon gave his daughter a harsh smile, but she saw the love within his eyes. Lifting a hand, he caressed her cheek with his work-roughened thumb. “I still wish that you would have told me.”

 

“We will visit the dress shop tomorrow,” Hannah heard her mother saying as she approached the group of women sitting on the blanket. It seemed that she wasn’t going to win the argument over what she’d wear to her own wedding; her mother was insisting on a gown, though Hannah was adamant that it be simple. She knew that she’d have to humor her mother and give in slightly, but she refused to lose control over the situation completely.

“Tomorrow, Ma?”

Mary glanced up at her eldest daughter and smiled. “Yes, tomorrow, Hannah. Gracie told me this morning that there are some lovely dresses in the shop. Maybe there will be one that you like. And we have to order a cake. I’m going to visit the baker after we have lunch, since we are in town and all. And food...what’ll we do about food? We don’t even know how many people will be coming.”

“Leave the food to me,” Sarah said. “I’ll go see Roxy. I’m sure the restaurant could use the business.”

Mary grinned. “Great idea!”

Hannah frowned. “I told you I want to keep this simple. There’s no need to...,” she began, but it was clear the two older women were thoroughly enjoying themselves—and not listening to her.

“Nine days to work with is just not enough time,” Mary complained.

“If you kept it simple, _like I asked_ , then nine days would be _plenty_ of time to plan a wedding,” Hannah said under her breath.

“Did you say something, dear?”

“Yes...there is no need to do any planning. We show up at the church on the Wednesday of the wedding, in the clothes we _always_ wear to church, Black Hawk and I stand before the reverend and say our vows, and it is done...we are married. I do not need a fancy dress or food and a cake; I just need Black Hawk beside me...that’s all. It’s simple...no planning necessary!”

“Oh, that’s silly, Hannah. Who ever heard of a wedding without cake?”

“Ma, no one is going to be at my wedding except for us,” she said as she made a sweeping gesture about the park area. Her father stood talking with Black Hawk’s father and uncle; they were smoking cigars and discussing only God knew what. Her fiancée had stretched out on the grass, as had her brothers; the three men laughing and Hunter blushing at whatever it was that had been said. And the children played a game nearby, managed by Lilly, the oldest child, while the women sat talking about the nuptials that would take place a week from Wednesday. “It is not necessary to...to go overboard.”

“Don’t be too sure about that, Hannah,” Sarah Walker said.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Well, as we were leaving church I heard Mrs. Jenson whisper that she’d not miss your wedding for all the tea in China.”

Hannah raised a brow in confusion. “But I don’t even _know_ Mrs. Jenson. Why would she want to come to my wedding?”

Sarah shrugged. “And her sister, Mrs. Lane...she didn’t seem all that pleased with what the doctor had to say to you. Maybe she will attend. After all, those two are rarely seen apart, now that their husbands have died.”

Hannah frowned. Though two years older, Mrs. Lane’s daughter had often been friendly with Hannah and her best friend, Abigail, when the girls were in school together, but Hannah hadn’t seen her old friend or her mother in years. _Why would either woman be interested in attending_? she wondered.

“And there’ll be others I’m sure.”

“Yes, there will be,” Magen said with a nod. “Gracie told me that she heard Emily and Cora talking about how _they’d_ be there.”

“But...but, I don’t understand. Why would people come to see me join when they obviously believe it to be so wrong?”

“That is precisely _why_ some will come,” Sarah said. “They will come in hopes that there will be trouble, or that the union will fail and they’ll be able to say they saw it coming.”

“But it is _not_ going to fail,” Hannah said adamantly.

Sarah Walker smiled at the young woman who was about to marry into the family. “I know it won’t, Hannah. You and Black Hawk will show them that...you will show them that you are both decent individuals who love each other deeply.”

“But having Mrs. Jenson and Mrs. Lane, and a few old classmates at my wedding will not change the opinions of the narrow-minded _fools_ who live in this town,” Hannah protested. “There is _nothing_ that can convince them that people like my children and Black Hawk, and his sisters, have just as much a right to be here as they do.”

“I wouldn’t say _nothing_ , Hannah. It will just take time. People don’t like change,” Sarah said with a slight shake of her head. “But, when it happens slowly enough, they get used to it.”

“Yes, you just need to give people some time,” Mary said gently. “They _will_ accept this...just like your father did.”

“But we do not _have_ time, Ma. We live here _now_. We want to get married now. And you heard them, they do not want us in their church.”

“It is not _their_ church, Hannah; it belongs to all of us, and not everyone objects to your being there, or to your joining. There will be plenty of others at the wedding...others who _do_ think you have a right to love whomever you choose.”

Hannah frowned in confusion again. “Like who?”

“Well, Reverend Johnson and his wife and younger daughter.”

Hannah laughed. “Of course they will be there...they have to be.”

“And Miss Johnson and _her_ fiancée. And Mr. Johnson and his wife and children.”

“But they—” Hannah started to protest.

“And the Kellys.”

“And the Tailors.”

“And Jake and Billy,” Magen threw in with a smile. “I’m sure Michael’s deputies wouldn’t miss your big day.”

Hannah frowned.

“And your father’s hands,” Mary put in.

“But Pa will probably give them that day off,” Hannah objected. “They will not want to attend a _wedding_ on that day...least of all _mine_.”

“They’ll be there.”

“But—”

“And, I’d be willing to bet Spinster Grey shows up, just to spite her brother,” Sarah added with a laugh.

Magen grinned at her sister’s open mouth.

“See?” Mary said to her oldest daughter with a shrug of her shoulders. “Sarah and I have loads of planning to do before your big day.”

All Hannah could do was groan. It was going to be a _long_ ten days before her wedding.

But the time went by faster than she anticipated. And each day was filled to the brim.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the chapters consist of one day each...labeled by the day of the week. Today is Monday, so I'll give you Monday. I'm going to TRY to post the rest of this by giving you a chapter each day. IDK if I'll forget...with any hope, I'll remember. Tomorrow (Tusday) will be difficult. I work both my jobs tomorrow with little time in between (and is spent driving), so it might be night before I get "Tuesday" up. Monday is short...sorry! Thanks for reading! ♥

** CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO **

_Monday_

On Monday morning, with most of the rest of the townspeople, the Cooke family paid their respects by attending the funeral of Mrs. Allison Moore, giving Hannah a chance to see her old friend Kevin, and to be seen in town with her new fiancée.

“I am so sorry about your wife, Kevin,” Hannah said as she hugged the grieving man dressed entirely in black. They had been friends ever since he’d defended her and Abigail when three older boys, one his own brother, were picking on them. “I wish I could have met her. Ma tells me she was a real lady.”

Kevin smiled grimly. “Thank you, Hannah. My Allison was quite the lady; she would have liked you, I’m sure.”

Hannah smiled sadly. “Well then, I could have had a friend in this town.”

Kevin raised a brow. He’d heard about what had happened in church the morning before and wanted her to know that she had his support. “You have a few...me for one,” he said, reaching out to clasp her hand.

Hannah smiled again and returned his squeeze. “Thank you, Kevin. It is a relief to know that there are those that won’t reject me. I have Abby as well, I suppose. But....”

“...she’s not the same,” he finished for her.

She shook her head sadly. “No, she certainly is not.”

Kevin watched her for a moment, then nodded, as if deciding something, then he spoke again. “You know, there is more to Abby’s story than most know.”

“Oh?”

He nodded. “It’s really not all that simple...I’d sure like to fill you in sometime if you’d like to hear about it. I think you’d understand her better.”

She nodded. “Of course I want to hear about it.”

Kevin smiled. “Well then, we’ll have to get together soon...after....” He waved a hand to indicate all that was happening. “This morning the Reverend told me that you’re getting married. Congratulations.”

“Oh yes, thank you.” Hannah turned then and beckoned to Black Hawk. He had been waiting for her, just off to the side, since he was unaccustomed to being included in town matters, but came forward when she signaled him. “This is probably not the proper time to make introductions,” she said, “but this is my fiancée, Black Hawk Walker. Black Hawk,” she said, looking up at the man she loved, “this is Kevin Moore, an old friend of mine.”

The two men stared at each other for a moment, then spoke at the same time.

“Black Hawk....”

“Mr. Moore....”

“Oh please, call me Kevin. My father is Mr. Moore.”

Black Hawk gave one of his rare smiles, and the two men clasped hands as if _they_ were old friends.

“I am pleased to meet you, Kevin.”

“And I you. You are a very lucky man. I have known Hannah for many years. She is...remarkable.”

Hannah blushed.

Black Hawk’s smile widened. “Yes...she is,” he said as he stepped back and slipped his arm around her waist. “I _am_ very lucky, thank you.” Black Hawk paused. “But...this is not the right time. I am so sorry for your loss.”

Kevin nodded. “It was expected, but it’s never easy to lose those you love, is it?”

Both Hannah and Black Hawk nodded. They both knew about loss.

 

After the funeral, Hannah was dragged over to the dress shop by her mother and Black Hawk’s Aunt Sarah, with Magen in tow, where they spent what seemed like forever looking at dresses and material and taking measurements, and discussing this pattern and that pattern. Everything was beautiful, Hannah had to admit, but she still wanted simple, something the older women seemed determined to ignore. And Mrs. Tailor, the dress shop owner, was becoming more and more exasperated that they couldn’t seem to agree on anything. Finally, Hannah put her foot down.

“Ma, if you are not going to include me in the decision on my own wedding dress...then I am going to call off the wedding,” she finally said.

Mrs. Tailor started, dropping the bolt of cloth she had been holding.

Magen and Gracie’s eyes widened as they stared at one another.

And Sarah looked stricken. “But...but Hannah....”

“Hannah, you can’t do that!” Mary said. “Not after the fuss you’ve made about being with Black Hawk.”

“I did not say I wouldn’t marry him...I said there will be no wedding. He and I could just as easily elope; take the stage to Denver and marry in the courthouse, and spend some time alone...no fancy dress or food required, and no one going overboard.”

“That is just silly when we have a courthouse here,” Mary objected.

“It isn’t if I want to get married without any fuss.”

“But Hannah—”

“It would solve all these problems, Ma. There is no need to go to such lengths.”

Mary glanced at the other women, then sighed. “All right then, other than one of your doeskin dresses, what would _you_ like to wear on your wedding day?”

Hannah shrugged. “I am not sure...something pink, or maybe blue. A simple dress with a straight skirt and maybe some lace on the sleeves...but nothing too fancy though.”

Mary looked at Mrs. Tailor and frowned. “Can you do that?”

Mrs. Tailor smiled. “Of course, simple is always easier. If Hannah will just choose the material, I can easily have it finished before the big day,” she said to Mary, then turned toward the bride. “I’ll make some sketches this evening and you can come see them tomorrow. Then I’ll need you to come in again, for a fitting...let’s say...Thursday. Can you do that?”

Hannah nodded. “Now, can we get home...I have work to do.”

With a roll of her eyes, Mary sighed again. “Can you believe my daughter’s getting married a week from Wednesday and all she can think about is mending all those silly fences?”


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter should have come on Tuesday, but...I worked ALL DAY...both jobs...so I knew I wasn't going to get it posted. Sorry.

** CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE **

_Tuesday_

On Tuesday afternoon, after working all morning with Hunter, Hannah left the Circle C with Magen and rode over to what was now being referred to as the _CW Ranch_ , though officially it was the Half-circle C slash W, the place that, in just a week’s time, she would permanently call home. It had taken some argument, of course, her father not wanting his two daughters riding off alone when there were still so many unsettled problems with the townspeople, but he had finally relented when Kyle had suddenly appeared and offered to ride out with them.

“You stay with them! Don’t let them out of your sight!” her father had hollered after them as they rode away from him.

Careful not to let her father see, Hannah rolled her eyes. But, after the way her father’s hand had so adamantly defended her in church on Sunday, she couldn’t very well refuse, even if she wanted to, which she really didn’t. Besides, now that her father thought the man could do no wrong, it would be a losing fight to argue that she didn’t need him to accompany them. And what would it hurt to have him there? The man was nice after all.

 

Pulling the wagon to a stop in front of her soon-to-be home, she smiled at the activity going on. Everywhere she looked, the place was aflutter with workers; she had never seen so many people working on one project before. It had been years since anyone had lived there and time had left the house looking rather tired. So, at her mother’s urging, her father had sent over some of his hands to clean up, mend fences, and generally get things in order. He’d even hired some men to repaint the entire house, but that was to happen later in the week, after the grounds were tidied and her mother’s cleaning crew took care of the inside.

“I cannot believe Pa is doing this for me,” she said with a shake of her head.

Magen smiled at her sister. “Why not? He does love you, Hannah. He always has...even if he’s neglected to show it.”

Hannah shook her head. “I know he loves me, Magen, but I do not know how you can even ask that. After all his protests he has done such a complete about-face.” She shook her head. “It just seems unreal.”

“Well, don’t question it. Just enjoy it.”

“I intend to, believe me.”

Looking around, she stared in amazement as both men and women scurried around working. Hannah couldn’t help the silly grin that passed her lips. She was getting married, with her father’s approval, and all this was to be _hers_ and her new husband’s. It was like a dream.

“What are you doing here, Hannah?” said a voice from above.

Hannah looked up to see James on the balcony over the front porch. He appeared to be working on the railing there. “I’ve come to fetch Black Hawk. I need to go into town to see Mrs. Tailor.”

He frowned, then turned and disappeared into the house. Within moments he reappeared at the front door. “I’ll take you,” he offered. “Just let me get my horse.”

Hannah smiled, knowing he was trying to protect her reputation by not allowing her to go off unescorted by a male relative while in the company of an unrelated male, even if that man was to become her husband in just a few short days. “That really is not necessary. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, brother. And Black Hawk needs to get home. Besides, Magen will be with us.”

James continued to frown. “And who will be with you and Magen when you return? _No_ ,” he said, not giving her the time to respond, “I’ll come with you too.”

Hannah pursed her lips, but nodded. She’d not be able to talk him out of it and she knew it so she acquiesced, but she couldn’t wait to get married, so the men in her life would stop trying to control her.

“I’ll just go get Black Hawk,” James said as he started away.

 

Hannah said goodbye to Black Hawk at the door to his father’s clinic with a kiss, then walked the few steps to the dress shop. James took off then, saying he was heading over to get a shave while he waited for her.

“Oh Hannah, I’m so glad you’re here!” Mrs. Tailor exclaimed as Hannah and her sister entered the shop. “I finished my drawings and was so inspired by them that I started working on your dress. I hope you don’t mind...and that you like what I’ve done.”

Hannah smiled at the older woman. _I hope I do too_ , she thought as she and Magen came around the counter to see what the woman had been working on. She was surprised, and pleased, to see what had been started for her.

“This is lovely, Mrs. Tailor,” she said, fingering the material that had been used. It wasn’t what she had chosen, but it was just as nice and it suited her—casually elegant.

“Do you really like it?”

Hannah nodded. “I do.”

“Oh good.” Mrs. Tailor let out the breath she had been holding unknowingly. “I was _so_ worried that I’d jumped the gun. I just _could not_ help myself. It’s not finished of course, but it’ll look like this when it’s done.” She pulled out her sketches and pushed them across the counter at Hannah. “What do you think?”

“I _like_ it. This will definitely work!”

**~oOo~**

“Hannah? Can I talk to you?”

Hannah was exiting the dress shop with her sister, but halted at the sound of her name. It was Jesse.

“Sure Jesse.” She smiled at him, then looked at Magen. “I will just be a moment.”

Magen nodded. “All right. I’ll go over to Kelly’s to pick up the things Ma wants.”

Hannah then turned back to the man. “Jesse? What is it?”

He frowned, his eyes watching Magen walk off then going back to Hannah. “Let’s walk.”

“All right. Where to?”

Jesse glanced around. “Are you hungry? We could get something at Millie’s.”

Hannah peered down the street at the café. “I have already eaten, Jesse. I am only in town to see Mrs. Tailor and to pick up a few things for Ma at Kelly‘s. I really do have to get back rather quickly. Things are busy on the C right now, with the cattle, and with my wedding and all.” She shrugged. “I’m sorry, but I really don’t have time for lunch.”

He frowned. Then, grabbing her hand, he pulled her across the street.

“Jesse!” she gasped as she stumbled after him. “What are you doing? Let go of me!” Instinct told her not to go with him, but she couldn’t bring herself to fight a man who’d always been her friend. “Where are you taking me, Jesse?” He didn‘t answer her, but she recognized that they were heading down Back Street and to a small stand of trees where they could talk in private, a place they’d talked many times in their past.

“What the hell is this about, Jesse?” she snapped, yanking her hand out of his once he’d halted.

“You’re not really going to marry that guy, are you?”

Hannah frowned and rubbed her sore wrist, and nodded. “Of course I am.”

“But...you can’t marry him.

“Oh Jesse, why not?” she asked in exasperation; she was so tired of everyone objecting.

“B-because...he’s...he’s a _half-breed_!”

She laughed then. “So! So are my children. It matters not to me.”

“You _can’t_ marry him!”

“Well, I am! You must get used to it!”

“No...you’re supposed to marry me. Marry _me_ instead, Hannah,” he begged. “I’ll take care of you and your children. I can, you know. My family _is_ wealthy.”

“I know that, Jesse, but I do not love you. I love Black Hawk.”

The man scowled. “Are you crazy? Don’t you know what kind of life you are going to have, being married to that...that _savage_? The entire town is going to reject you! If you marry me you could have a good life, be invited to the best parties.”

Hannah shook her head. “I care not about parties...just Black Hawk.”

“No!” Jesse snapped. “You _cannot_ marry him!”

“You are not listening, Jesse. I _am_ marrying Black Hawk. I love him and he loves me. Nothing else matters.”

“NO!” he shouted, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her. “You’re wrong! It _all_ matters! You can’t marry him. You’re mine!” With that he pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard on the mouth.

For a moment, Hannah was too surprised to do anything but stand there. Then her senses came back to her and she reacted by biting his lip, and then slapping him once he‘d pulled back.

“Ouch! That hurt!” he exclaimed, his hand going to his mouth and, finding blood there, he stared at her in shock.

“Good! It was supposed to hurt, you _jackass_!”

“I don’t understand. Why’d you do that?”

“Why did you kiss me, Jesse?” she asked, hands on her hips and a scowl on her pretty face. “We’re just friends. That’s all we’ve ever been. What is _wrong_ with you?”

He frowned. “But Hannah, I used to court you. I want to marry you. Please at least consider it. We could have such a good life together. I can just see it.”

“Again with the not listening,” she said with frustration. “I cannot marry you, Jesse. And there is no _we_ ,” she said, gesturing between them. “There never has been. I will join with Black Hawk. Only he holds my heart.”

“But he’s a _half-breed_!” he growled, his fists now balled at his sides. He was clearly angry that she would not see things his way.

“Yes, and that works just fine for me. Please try to understand,” she said, shifting her tone from one of frustration to one better suited to calm her angry friend. “Can you not just be happy for me?”

“Why do you speak so funny, Hannah? You grew up here, _remember_?” he demanded as he took a step toward her. “You went to school _here_ , with all of us white folk! Why do you insist on sounding like a dirty stinkin’ Injun?”

Hannah sighed. “Because Jesse, I am one, in my heart. I became a woman living with them. Had children living there. Lost a husband there. I am Cheyenne where it matters... _here_!” she thumped her fist on her chest.

“No!“ He shook his head and started pacing. “You let those savages ruin you, Hannah. How could you do it?” He stopped in front of her again. “And now you’re talking about taking another one to your bed.” He grabbed her shoulders again and glared down at her. “But I won’t let you do it, Hannah.” He gave her a shake, then continued on. “You’re going to stop talking this nonsense and you’re going to marry me!” And with that he slammed his lips down on hers again.

This time Hannah’s reaction came faster. Bringing her knee up swiftly, she nailed him hard between the legs, causing her immediate release as he fell to the ground and lay there writhing in pain.

Groaning, Jesse pushed to his knees and heaved.

“Don’t you dare get up!” she snapped, her fury building as she stood there watching him hold himself and gasp for air.

“Hannah? Put the gun down.”

Hannah glanced up to see first Michael, his gun drawn, then James and Black Hawk, her brother restraining her fiancée with Magen’s help, and several others, including Jesse’s father, standing there watching her. Then, with a frown, she realized her own gun was drawn and aimed at Jesse. She immediately holstered her weapon and stepped away from the moaning figure that had once again dropped, choking, to the ground.

“What is going on here?” Jesse’s father demanded.

“I will tell you what you are seeing, Mr. Wyndham,” Hannah said. “Your _son_ just got finished assaulting me.”

The older man scowled. “Looks to me like it’s the other way around, Miss Cooke. Who is the one still standing?”

Hannah glanced down at Jesse, who had recovered somewhat, though not enough to speak, then back at the man’s father. “Well, looks can be deceiving, Sir. Your son has decided he knows better than I who _I_ should marry.”

“Is that a fact?”

She nodded.

“And who is it that he thinks you should wed, Miss Cooke?”

“Well, _him_ , of course.” She flung her hand at the man she’d always called a friend.

“And you have beaten him for voicing an opinion?”

“I have kicked his a....”

“ _Hannah_.”

“...his _behind_ , Sir,” she altered after hearing her brother’s warning tone, “because he _assaulted_ me.”

Mr. Wyndham shook his head. “I see no evidence of his alleged _assault_. I do, however, see my son bleeding on the ground.”

“Only because he took the liberty of kissing me and I _bit_ him, damn it!”

“Sheriff, I don’t care if she _is_ your sister, I want her arrested.”

Michael frowned, then beckoned his sister forward. “You better come with me, Hannah.”

Hannah‘s crystal blue eyes flashed with shock. “ _What_?”

“ _Hannah_ ,” he said warningly. “Just come!”

With a glance at Jesse, who now lay prone on the ground, then at the gathering crowd, Hannah went to her brother. Michael took her elbow and started away.

“Aren’t you going to cuff her?” Mr. Wyndham asked. He was clearly taking pleasure in the way things were going.

Michael rolled his eyes and turned to face the business owner. “No, I hardly think she’s a flight risk, Mr. Wyndham. She’s to be married here in town in _eight_ days.”

“I want her restrained!”

“Well, I ain’t cuffin’ my sister, so drop it!” Michael snapped. “Come on, Hannah. Let’s go!”

Hannah threw once last look of disgust down at Jesse, then went with her brother. They were followed by Black Hawk, James and Magen.

 

“But that’s not the way it looked, Hannah? My hands are tied.”

“Fine then! Arrest me!”

“ _Nooo_ , you can’t arrest her,” Magen whined. “We all know that Hannah did not do this.”

“Do what exactly? We don’t even know _what_ she did,” Black Hawk put in, though anyone who’d seen the man rolling around on the ground knew that she’d nailed him in the groin.

Michael shook his head. “Relax, I’m not going to arrest her. We don’t throw people in jail for kicking a guy in the... _ahhhh_.“ He glanced at Magen and said no more.

“Oh Christ, Michael!” Magen cursed. “I’m not two!”

“Watch your mouth, Magen!” Michael scolded. “If Ma heard that....” He shook his head. “She’d wash your mouth out with soap.”

“ _Watch my mouth_?” Magen repeated with a frown. “I’m not two and neither am I _your_ child to scold, so you just mind your own damned business, which, by the way, is policing this town... _not_ my mouth!”

Michael groaned. Now _both_ his sisters had grown a pair.

And then James laughed. “She’s right, Michael. Leave her alone. You have enough shit to worry about.”

“Jesus Christ, James! You are _not_ helping!”

“Shut up, Michael!” James, Hannah, and Magen replied in unison. Then all four siblings burst out laughing.

“So,” Black Hawk said when he could finally get a word in edgewise. “What _is_ going to happen to Hannah?” They didn’t seem nervous, but he was.

“I’ll just take her statement.” He pulled out a piece of paper and pushed it across his desk. “Just write down what happened and sign it, Hannah.”

She looked at him skeptically. “That is all?”

He shrugged. “For now. I’ll go see if anyone else saw anything, and I’ll bring Jesse in for questioning. What else can I do?”

“You can arrest that bastard for assaulting Hannah!” Magen suggested. “ _He’s_ the one who should spend some time behind bars.”

“Well, like I said, I’ll investigate things, see if I can find a witness. Without one, this is purely a _he said, she said_ incident. _I_ believe Hannah, of course,” Michael went on when he saw Magen ready to argue some more, “but without a witness, there’s nothing I can do.”

“But....” Magen began.

Michael held up a hand. “No buts, Magen. For now, this is over!”

 

Fifteen minutes later, as they stood up to leave Michael’s office, Hannah sighed her relief that it was over. She hoped it was anyway.

“We still need to go to Kelly’s,” Magen informed her as they walked.

“What? I thought you were going to take care of that.”

“Well, I was. But Jesse gave me the creeps, so I went to find Michael instead.”

Hannah sighed. “All right then, let’s get this over with so we can get home.”

**~oOo~**

“You do not have to take us, Black Hawk. James will be enough.”

Black Hawk’s brow wrinkled with concern. “I am sure that he is. And I meant no disrespect to James in my offer. I do this for myself as well. I may not _have to_ , but I am _going to_.” When she stiffened, he continued. “You did well protecting yourself, Ve’otse’e,[1] but I will feel better if I see you home. Please do not argue. Please let me take care of the woman I love.” He leaned forward then and held her close. “ _Please_ ,” he said as he kissed her forehead.

Hannah sighed, then nodded her head. “I will not argue.”

Black Hawk smiled, then lifted her to his horse. “And you will ride with me,” he said, then helped her sister into the wagon.

James frowned, then shrugged. “I guess I can just tie my mount to the back of the buckboard.”

And that is how they left town. 

[1]. Ve’otse’e – Warpath Woman


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and here is Wednesday!!!

** CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR **

_Wednesday_

Jon Cooke walked from his house to the barn, finding two of his sons already out there. Hunter was shoveling a stall and James was laughing at something that had been said. Then the older man realized his future son-in-law was there as well.

“What the hell’s going on here?” he demanded.

Everyone froze.

“Why the hell’re _you_ here?”

The three men looked at one another, but it was James who answered. “There was...trouble in town again yesterday, Pa. Black Hawk rode home with us.”

“Damn! What’s happened now?”

James frowned. “Pa, it wasn’t Hannah’s fault.”

Jon waved a hand, dismissing their cover up. “Christ, James, I know that! I may be an old fool, but I’m not stupid. What the devil happened?”

All James could do was relate what he knew. “But I’m sure she’s telling’ the truth.”

Jon grinned. “I always knew that Wyndham boy was no good! _Always_ knew he wanted her. Those eyes a his was always roving all over her when he thought we wasn’t lookin’. We shoulda known he was wantin’ ta—”

“ _Pa_!”

Everyone turned to see Hannah standing there watching them, hands on hips and a frown on her face. “I don’t think I like what you were about to say.”

“Oh Christ Han...way to go! I hear you kicked that bastard’s ass!”

Hannah’s mouth dropped open in astonishment.

“ _Jonathan Malcolm Cooke_!” Mary exclaimed. She’d come up behind their daughter and, hearing her husband’s cursing, was ready to scold. “How many times have I asked you not to use the Lord’s name in vain?” She glanced down at the four young, _impressionable_ , children who had accompanied her to the barn. All four stood there round eyed, the girls giggling and the boys smirking. “Can’t you at least _try_ to watch what you say...for the sake of the little ones?”

“Well shit, Mary, I didn’t know you was here too...that all of you were,” he added with a frown.

The four children giggled.

Mary frowned at her husband. “Well, if you were minding your tongue, then you wouldn’t have to be lookin’ over your shoulder, now would you? I think I’m going to start charging you two bits every time I hear a curse pass those lips,” she said as she picked up the bucket to milk the cow. Then she looked around. “And that goes for each and every one of you! I’m going to be a wealthy woman in short order!”

“You’re already a wealthy woman, Mary,” Jon said with a deep frown. “Don’t I provide well enough for you, honey.”

Mary plopped down and, settling herself to begin milking, reached for the milch cow’s teats. “Yes you do, but that’s not the point and you know it!”

“Why ain’t Magen doing that, damn it?” Jon asked.

Mary stopped her work long enough to scowl at her husband. “Because, I have her making breakfast this morning. And that’ll be two bits,” she said, holding out her hand.

Jon Cooke frowned, then reached into his pocket to produce the money his wife was demanding. “ _Satisfied_?”

Mary looked at the money in her hand, then smiled up at her husband. “I am indeed. Thank you.” Then, slipping the coins into her apron pocket, she went back to her work.

 

“All right, so where’d he stay last night?” Jon asked with nod over shoulder at the man who would soon become his son-in-law. Hands gloved and a bale of hay aloft, Black Hawk was helping Hannah and Hunter feed the corralled horses, but Jon was worried about propriety. What he wanted to know was whether or not the man had shared his daughter’s tepee.

“In the bunkhouse with the men,” James said as he tossed a riding blanket up onto his horse.

Jon nodded, pleased with the response he’d gotten. “And how’d the men take to that?”

James shrugged. “It seemed like it went all right.”

“There were no problems, then?”

“I wouldn’t say _that_.”

Jon signed. “Who am I gonna have ta fire?” he asked, worried about losing good hands with the fall round up just around the corner, but feeling the need to do what was best for his family. After all, Hannah was much more important than some dumb cowpoke, and there were _always_ men looking for work.

“No one,” James said. “Between Hank and Kyle it’s all been settled. Only Burns and that new kid... _Petie_? ...lit outta here. And I wouldn’t say that it’s much of a loss. According to Hank, Burns ate far more than his fair share and Petie was always bitchin’ ‘bout something. Even Kyle had had enough of them.”

“I heard that, James Harrison!” Mary hollered from the other end of the barn. “I may be old, but I’m not deaf. You owe me two bits!”

“All right, Ma,” he yelled back, then back at his father. “The rest of the hands have been right nice. Hank says Black Hawk can hold his own in any company.”

“Humph! That’s good, I s’pose. If he’s gonna be takin’ care of what’s ours.”

Jon saddled his horse, then climbed on up, then he looked at his son as they started away from the barn. “In a week’s time now our girl will be wed.”

James nodded. “Yep.

Both stopped to watch Hannah. She’d climbed up onto a bale in the middle of the corral and was tickling the back of Black Hawk’s neck with a few loose pieces of hay, while Whirlwind nudged her in the back. The horse’s push sent her spilling into Black Hawk’s arms, laughing until he silenced her with a kiss.

“Never saw _that_ comin’,” Jon said with a tone of defeat.

James sighed. “Neither did I, Pa.”

“Watchin’ our girl in the arms of...a man....” All Jon could do was shake his head. “Never saw it coming,” he repeated.

“Nope...but at least she’s home, right?”

“Yep! Sure glad our girl came home to us...I’ll admit to that.”

“We’re all glad...though....” James cocked his head as he watched his sister with her intended; they sure seemed to love each other, he thought, wondering if he’d ever find that. “I suppose she’s not really _our girl_ anymore, eh?”

“Like hell she ain’t ours!” Jon growled. “That’s my girl! Always will be!”

“ _Jon_ ,” came Mary’s shout from the other end of the barn.

“Damn, that woman’s like a fly on the wall!”

“JON!”

James chuckled. “Yep...that’s Ma for ya.”

**~oOo~**

Hannah stood in her old bedroom, staring at herself in the standing full-length mirror. At her mother’s request, she’d put on another dress-like outfit; a two piece jacket and double skirt of cardinal-colored calico, trimmed in lace and satin ribbon. Turning slightly, to view her backside, she frowned at the split tail in back.

“God! It looks like I have something shoved up my a—”

“Hannah!” Magen burst. “You’re gonna make Ma rich with that mouth.”

Hannah laughed. “Don’t tell me to mind my mouth, sister dear. As I recall, you were just telling the rest of us to mind our own _damned_ business when it comes to what you say.”

“Hannah Kristín!” Mary exclaimed from the doorway. “That’ll be two bits!”

Magen grinned and gave her sister an _I told you so_ look, then looked at their mother. “Oh Ma, shouldn’t we each get one freebie?”

Mary shook her head. “Absolutely not!” she snapped. “And don’t think I don’t know about _your_ mouth, Magen Marie. I’ve heard you cursing at that horse that Indian gave you.”

Magen’s eyes widened. She thought she’d been careful. Then turning and seeing Hannah’s reflection grinning back at her, she frowned and stuck out her tongue.

“Well, the horse is a brute! Even our good reverend would find profanity slipping from him saintly lips.”

“That is _not_ true,” Mary said with a shake of her head. “And even if it were, I might have to insist he put money in the town’s treasury.”

Magen pouted. “Well, that horse is completely untrainable!”

Hannah laughed. “He is trained already, Magen.”

“Well not so that I can actually _use_ him. What’s the use of having a horse I can’t use?”

Hannah shrugged. “He is a beauty.”

“He is at that, but he’s useless to me if he refuses to be hitched.”

“Magen, he was a _war pony_ ,” Hannah reminded her sister. “He has never pulled a wagon before.”

Mary frowned. “I don’t think I want to hear about what kind of horse that Indian gave my daughter, Hannah.”

“I was just sayin’, Ma,” Hannah said, “that Magen will have to work with him. But I do not think Naesohtoheoeve will ever be willing to pull a buckboard.”

Mary sighed. “Dare I ask for a translation?”

Hannah smiled. “Six Stands.”

“And what, pray tell, does _that_ mean?”

Hannah sighed. “It means that the horse has survived six battles.”

“And how many _people_ has that Indian killed in these _battles_?” Mary asked, suddenly a little fearful.

“His name is Brave Wolf, Mother!” Magen snapped. “Not _that Indian_.”

Both Hannah and Mary stared at her.

“I mean...I—”

“Save it, Magen,” Mary said with a shake of her head. “I already know that you fancy that Indian....”

“Brave Wolf!” both Magen and Hannah exclaimed in unison.

Holding up her hands and shaking her head again, she started for the door. “Between the two of you, you’re going to send your father to an early grave.” Then, covering her ears, she said, “I don’t want to hear any more of this. Please now, make haste, supper is almost ready.”

**~oOo~**

“You will visit me tonight?” Hannah asked hopefully as she strolled the front yard with Black Hawk.

He frowned. “I will not.”

“You would rather sleep in the bunk house with the hands?”

He chuckled. “No...I would much rather sleep in your furs with _your_ hands all over me and mine on you.” He sighed. “But I have made a promise to hold back and I intend to keep it.”

Hannah sighed. “Oh, all right.” She pretended to pout. “If you _must_.”

Black Hawk grinned, then grabbed her chin and kissed her, his tongue eagerly seeking hers as he pushed it past her lips. Not caring who might be watching them, Black Hawk tangled a hand in her hair and deepened his kiss. He groaned as he felt her respond with equal measure. He could have easily broken his promise and made love to her right there. But that is not what he did. Regretfully, he forced himself to stop. Breathing heavily as he took his lips from hers, he pulled her into his embrace.

“It is just seven more days, my love, and then I will be able to take you in my arms with nothing separating us.”

“Yes. And I look forward to it.”

“As do I.”


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning! Well, it's morning for me, so...yeah!
> 
> Here's your Thursday post...

** CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE **

_Thursday_

Because of the situation, her intended being on the property and all, Hannah’s father made her sleep inside. It was the first time she’d slept under her father’s roof since her return and, despite the comfortable bed and old bedding, and all the familiar surroundings, she didn’t sleep well at all; she missed the open air of her tepee, the warmth of her close, low-burning fire, and the sounds of her children breathing beside her. But she tried not to complain. She had to admit that she’d enjoyed staying up late, talking and giggling with her sister, just as they’d always done in years past, when they were young and life was easy.

“Nahko’e,[1] I am _hung-gree_ ,” Little Snowbird said as she entered her mother’s bedroom. “Ke’eehe[2] says we cannot eat until everyone is at the tay-bull.”

Hannah looked down at her young daughter and smiled at the outfit the child was wearing; a burgundy-print yoke-style prairie dress, covered with a solid burgundy pinafore with white bloomers sticking out from underneath, and a matching bonnet dangling at her back. Little Snowbird’s waist-length hair had been arranged into a single neat braid with a satin ribbon tied at the bottom. She looked absolutely adorable. The only thing that didn’t quite fit the image was the pair of moccasins her daughter wore.

Lifting her to the plush bed she had slept on for the first time in seven years, Hannah said, “I see that you wear another one of Katie’s dresses?”

Little Snowbird smiled, but shook her head. “ _No_ , ke’eehe gave this to me just this morning.”

“She gave you _another_ dress?”

Little Snowbird nodded proudly.

Hannah shook her head, but smiled. “Ke’eehe spoils you,” she said, poking her finger into her daughter’s belly.

Little Snowbird nodded, her grin huge. She loved her new dresses and her new life—not that she didn’t like her _old_ life. This one was just different. “I remembered my thay kyoo.”

“That is good. I am proud.”

“ _Seheso_ ,[3] where _are_ you?” a voice came from down the hall.

Mother and daughter smiled at one another.

“She is _here_ , Katie,” Hannah called out to her young sister.

Katie appeared in Hannah’s doorway. “May I come in.”

Hannah grinned. “Of course you may. You do not have to ask,” she said, grabbing her sister and lifting her to the bed beside her daughter. “I see that you two are matching again.”

Both girls giggled.

“Yes, Mama said two beautiful girls should have two beautiful dresses.”

Hannah smiled at her sister, then noticing something else, she frowned. “Hmm...with matching moccasins? Where did Ma find these...and what did Pa have to say about them?”

Katie shrugged. “I don’t know, I don’t care. But I like them! Your mock-sins are much more softer than my dumb boots.”

Hannah laughed. “Hmm, indeed they are. How we stand such constricting boots on our feet is beyond me.” Hannah looked the workmanship over, then nodded. “They are nice.”

“And comfortable, Nahko’e. Not like Pretty Bird makes, but still good.”

Hannah nodded. “Where did they come from?”

Both girls shrugged.

“I will ask ke’eehe...Ma,” she added for Katie’s benefit.

They nodded.

“May we go down and eat now?” Little Snowbird asked hopefully.

Hannah laughed, then added her nod to theirs. “Yes, we will eat now.”

 

“I trust you slept well,” Mary asked her oldest daughter as they worked together to transfer a huge mound of scrambled eggs to a platter.

Hannah shrugged. “It was...adequate.”

“ _Adequate_?” Mary said with a frown. “What is wrong? Were there lumps in your mattress? I will have someone carry it out and beat it.”

Hannah shook her head. “No Ma, the bed was fine...the same as I remember it to be. It is just the sleeping inside; I am not used to it. It was... _stuffy_.”

“I see.”

“No Ma, I do not think that you do.”

Mary pursed her lips and smiled at her daughter. “Do not think that because I am white, and used to sleeping inside, that I do not know how _stuffy_ this house can get. I have lived here for decades, Hannah Kristín. I know it well.”

Hannah frowned, but nodded her understanding. “I do not mean to be...disrespectful, Ma.”

Mary shook her head and sighed. “I know that Hannah, and I don’t mean to scold. Your life has been... _difficult_ , to say the least. I may not have lived the same life that you have, but I am aware of this. And I’m certainly not ignorant to the ways of others.”

Hannah smiled. “I understand your meaning.”

“I know that you do, daughter. Now...let’s go sit and eat with your husband-to-be. He waits with your father and brothers and the children.”

 

“I thought I was gonna have ta eat in the bunkhouse,” Jon said when his wife and daughters finally came into the room. “We’ve been waiting for ages.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “Are your legs broke, Jon?” she asked.

“Ahhh, _no_ , not last time I checked.”

“You forget where the kitchen is?”

“Nope!”

“Well then,” Mary snapped as she plopped a bowl of gravy down in front of her husband, “you could have just as easily come in and started bringing out the food, now couldn’t you?”

Jon chuckled. “I suppose so.” He reached for the bowl and poured gravy over his biscuits, his personal favorite breakfast, then he reached for the eggs. “So, what’s the plan for today?” he asked. The ranch’s daily routine had been sorely disrupted due to the absence of so many of his hands but, with the wedding less than a week away now, and having Hannah and Black Hawk’s home ready in time a number one priority, it really couldn’t be helped. Everyday less and less was getting done on the Circle C, but Jon was finding that he didn’t mind so much.

“Hannah has to be in town by one for a fitting,” Mary said. “And I was considering a two o’clock tea time with the ladies.”

Jon nodded. “You should do that, Mary. You hardly ever socialize anymore.”

Mary smiled. “Who has time for socializing?”

“Certainly not me! But you should make time,” he said as he shoved a bite of food in his mouth. Then, waving his fork around, he went on. “You should hurry up, go into town early, have more time for visitin’.”

Mary nodded. “That is a good idea. I think we will.”

“But Ma, I wanted to go over to the house for a while...to work in the barn.”

“Oh Hannah, you can’t go getting all dirty in that smelly old barn just before your fitting.”

“But Ma, it’s a wreck. I couldn’t possibly keep my horses in there the way it is now.”

“Those horses are used to being outside,” Mary countered.

Hannah frowned. “Not Whirlwind and Little Snowbird’s pony...not anymore. Or Midnight,” she added, thinking about Black Hawk’s huge stallion. “He is used to being stabled.”

“Well, you can’t work on it today,” Mary said firmly. “Perhaps tomorrow.” She nodded. “You can spend the entire day there tomorrow, if you so choose...but not today!”

Hannah frowned again and glanced at her father for help.

Her father only shrugged. He’d been listening and understood his daughter’s desire to have things in order; she had gotten that from him. But he also understood his wife’s desire for her daughter to be _a daughter_ for once. He wanted to laugh, but held a straight face; neither would appreciate his humor at the moment.

“I’ll send Kyle over there today,” he said, hoping to be helpful. “He can start the cleanin’.”

“That is real... _nice_ of you Pa, but...I do not think that is necessary. I am perfectly capable of doing this myself.”

Jon shook his head. “Nice, nothin’! The sooner that place is done, the sooner I’ll have my men back. I’m sending him over as soon as we’re done here!”

“But that is just what I’m talking about, Pa. I do not need to use _all_ of your men,” Hannah said, her brow bunched up with worry. “Nothing is getting done here.”

“Stop frettin’! A few days of inactivity _here_ ain’t goin’ ta bankrupt us. Besides, ya’ll finished putting up fences on the new property, least I can do is help get yours in order.”

When Hannah opened her mouth to protest once again, her father held up his hand. “End of subject, Hannah! Pretend it’s Sunday, you ain’t workin’ today!”

Hannah’s mouth snapped shut.

“Well, as long as we’re not working the C today,” James said, “I don’t mind going over there again and putting a little sweat into their place.” He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. “That barn’s pretty much _shit_ ,” he said, placing a quarter on the table and sliding it over to his mother. “We’d better think about doing more than just a little cleanin’.”

“James Harrison! _that_ is just not acceptable!” Mary scolded. The young ones giggled and James smiled at his mother, but didn’t say anything further.

“And _I_ wasn’t planning on doing much today either, Hannah,” Black Hawk put in. “I’ll go work the barn.”

Hannah continued to frown.

“Midnight’s not going to know what hit him,” Black Hawk continued on. “Having his own stall and a pasture to run around on. I was thinking, Hannah, we might want to build another corral and a few more barn stalls...since we have so many horses and all.”

Hannah’s frown deepened. Everyone seemed to be making all her decisions for her and she didn’t much like it. Was Black Hawk going to start doing the same? “And am _I_ going to be allowed to work on this project? Or will I be regulated to tea parties once we’re married?” she asked in frustration.

“ _Hannah_ , I don’t think that’s what Black Hawk meant,” Mary said, her cheeks pink with embarrassment as she stared at her daughter.

Jon looked from his future son-in-law to his daughter, then back. Black Hawk was staring at her now as well, as was everyone else at the table. Even the children’s giggles had ceased. This just might be their first quarrel, he thought, his apprehension surprising him.

But then it ended before it could really begin.

“Well, I...of course you will, Hannah...be involved, I mean,” he clarified. “I didn’t mean that it would be done today or that you had no choice in the matter. It was just a thought.”

Hannah sighed. “I know. I am sorry.”

Black Hawk clasped her hands with his and kissed them lightly. “It is _your_ house, Hannah, you will always have a choice.”

“The house belongs to the both of ya,” Jon corrected him, wanting the young man to know that he begrudged him nothing. “I told ya that.”

“Well, yes Sir, you did. But among the Cheyenne the dwelling always belongs to the woman. If there are problems within the home, a man may take his belongings if he leaves, or is thrown out, but he cannot take a woman’s home.”

“Hmm, interesting concept. Are men often thrown out of the home?”

Black Hawk shrugged. “I don’t rightly know, Sir.”

“Jon,” the older man corrected.

Sighing, Black Hawk shook his head. “I’ve never lived with the People, Jon.” He didn’t think he’d ever get used to being on a first name basis with his soon-to-be father-in-law.

Everyone looked then at Hannah.

“I’ve seen it happen a few times,” she confirmed. “Once, Sings Good was so angry with her husband, Buffalo Horn, that she tossed all his belongings outside the tepee. Mine was near, so when I heard all the commotion, I went out to see what was happening. Everyone stood around to watch while Buffalo Horn’s things flew from the tepee opening and scattered in the dirt, while Sings Good railed at him.”

Magen’s eyes were round. “What did he do that upset her so?”

Hannah smiled. She knew her next words would shock them. “He refused to take her sister as his second wife.”

Mary gasped and covered her mouth. “She _wanted_ her husband to...to....” She glanced at her youngest daughter and could not continue.

Hannah nodded. “You see, Sings Good was Crow. Buffalo Horn took her captive after a raid in Crow territory. Called her “Brings Food” for about a year. But then they fell in love and he married her.”

“ _Ohh_ , how romantic,” Magen said.

“But why then did she want him to marry another?” Mary asked in confusion.

“It is just custom; men often have more than one wife among the Cheyenne.”

“Did _yours_?” Mary asked, with a nervous look at Black Hawk.

Hannah shook her head. “No Ma. My husband did not find need.” For a moment Hannah stared at her plate, embarrassed to speak of another when her intended sat beside her, then she seemed to remember the previous conversation and continued. “A few years later Sings Good’s sister, Little Feather, allowed herself to be captured too, because she wanted to be with her sister. It was really rather stupid, because she was captured by a different band and could have been killed. But someone in the camp that captured her knew of the Crow woman married to Buffalo Horn and brought her to us. Buffalo Horn was so upset. He said that he did not want more than one wife. That two women in one tepee is trouble.”

Jon chuckled. “I can imagine!”

He received dirty looks from all three women at the table.

“Anyway, Buffalo Horn refused to marry Little Feather, so Sings Good tossed him out.”

“And that was the end of it?” Magen asked with a sad expression. “They were divorced?”

“Well no, actually. Buffalo Horn changed his mind right quick. You see, it was winter and he did not like sleeping outside in the snow. He could probably have found a fire to sleep by, had he asked someone—or another woman to take him in,” she added for shock value. To their credit, her mother and Magen managed to remain unaffected. “But no one wants to get involved in marital problems, so no one invited him to stay. _I_ wanted to ask him over, even though Sings Good is my friend, but my husband said it was not our place to get involved. Finally, Buffalo Horn agreed to marry Little Feather and Sings Good let him come home. And now he is called Two Crows because both his wives were Crow.”

Everyone smiled.

“Does a lot of this _capturin’_ go on?” Jon asked his daughter.

Hannah shrugged. “Every band I met always had a few slaves.”

“That’s barbaric!” Magen said.

“To us, maybe.”

“My great-grandmother was a captive,” Black Hawk told them. “Back in 1811, I think, my great-grandfather took her right out of her father’s house.”

Mary gasped again. “Oh my! How awful. _Terrifying_!”

Black Hawk chuckled. “I’m sure she was terrified at the time, but...well, it all turned out all right. She married my great-grandfather, of her own free will, and they had three children, the oldest, a boy, who later married and had three children as well. And _his_ oldest girl grew up to marry my father.”

“How colorful your family is, Black Hawk,” Mary said with a smile. “I would never have guessed.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“ _Mary_ ,” the older woman reminded quietly.

“Yes, of course.”

“Is she still living?” Jon asked. “Your white, great-grandmother, I mean?”

Black Hawk shrugged. “She was the last time I visited the People. But it has been many years since I have done that. I hope so.”

Hannah smiled. “Well, maybe you will get to see her this summer.”

“I hope so,” the man repeated.                                             

**~oOo~**

“What about a corset?” Mary asked the dress maker.

“Absolutely not!” Hannah said firmly before Mrs. Tailor could even open her mouth. She was standing there in the dress that had been made for her, a look of disgust on her pretty face.

“Hannah, you can’t wear such a lovely dress without one. It would be unseemly.”

“Well, actually—” Mrs. Tailor began.

“I can and I will. I don’t even own one.”

“That’s easily solved, my dear. We _are_ in a dress shop. Where do you think these things come from?”

Hannah shook her head. “I will not wear a corset, Mother.”

Mary sighed. “See if you can talk some sense into her,” she said, turning to Mrs. Tailor.

“Oh, but it’s not necessary,” the dressmaker said. “I have boned the bodice; she will need no corset.”

Mary frowned, then reached out and ran a hand over her daughter’s waist and ribs. With a smile she nodded, then clasped her hands. “This is wonderful!” she exclaimed.

“And I think that, if Hannah would just wear a few petticoats underneath, it will be—”

“One,” Hannah said, holding up a finger. “I will wear just _one_ petticoat.”

Mrs. Tailor pursed her lips. “And bloomers, perhaps.”

Hannah sighed. There was no winning with these two and Magen had disappeared upstairs to visit with Gracie, leaving Hannah alone to deal with them. “ _Perhaps_.” The thought of wearing drawers beneath everything else made her feel like eloping.

The two older women smiled and started talking about underwear.

“May I change now?” Hannah finally asked when it seemed like they’d forgotten her.

“Oh yes, of course,” Mrs. Tailor said, waving a hand toward the screened off changing area, but continuing her conversation with Mary. “To be honest, I prefer linen, but....”

Hannah listened to them for a moment, then went to change.

 

“So what do you think, Hannah?” her mother asked, holding the dress up and running her fingers along the boned bodice.

Hannah tried to smile. As if she had a choice about the boning now that the dress was nearly complete, or anything else for that matter. The dress, though not as straight-skirted as she had hoped, was at least the color she’d requested and was liberally decorated in Brussels lace, her favorite.

“It is perfect, Mrs. Tailor,” she conceded.

“Wonderful! Now, I just have a few more adjustments to make. I will want you to try it on one more time. Do you think you could stop by again either on Monday or Tuesday?”

Hannah glanced at her mother. “Ma?”

“We will be staying in town on Tuesday night, so Tuesday will be perfect.”

**~oOo~**

“The tea was just lovely, Marjorie,” Mary said as they stood talking on the older woman’s front doorstep. “It has been ages!”

“It always was hard to get you off that ranch and into town, Mary, but I’m glad you came. And I’m thrilled that you brought your daughters, _and_ your granddaughter; it was lovely to meet the little darling,” Marjorie said as they watched Katie and Little Snowbird tussle about, giggling with the other children. “I do say...the things people say sometimes ought not be believed.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Hannah said with a smile.

“Hannah, I’ve know you all your life, dear. There’s nothing you could do that would turn me against you.”

Hannah smiled. “Thank you again.”

“Ten o’clock on Wednesday, huh?” the woman asked.

Both Hannah and her mother nodded.

“And it is all right that this old woman attend?”

Hannah grinned. “Most definitely.”

“Well good then, I will see you then...if not before.”

**~oOo~**

Hannah was just helping her mother up into the wagon when they heard Michael calling out to them. She was surprised and pleased to see him—until she saw his frown. _Uh-oh_ , she thought.

Michael knew Hannah would be in town today, but he hadn’t known his mother and other sisters and Little Snowbird would be as well. His frown was for the news he had to deliver in front of them.

“Hey, headed home?”

They nodded.

For a moment he was silent, he didn’t want to just blurt out what he had to say, but what else could he do. “Hey Han, could I talk to you for a minute?”

Hannah frowned at him, then glanced at her mother and sister. “You can say to me whatever you wish in front of them.”

Michael’s frown deepened. He didn’t know what to do, but his mother seemed to understand.

“I will just take the children and prepare to leave. You go on Hannah.”

Magen frowned now. “But I want to hear.”

“Hush Magen! I’ll need your help.”

Hannah smiled appreciatively, then turned to her brother. “What is it?”

“Jesse and his father were in my office yesterday.”

“And?”

“They want to press charges against you.”

Hannah bit her lip. “ _So...._ What? Do you have to arrest me or something?”

Michael shook his head. “I told you, Hannah, we don’t jail people for fighting.” He rolled his eyes. “Not as in, hold them for an extended length of time. Sometimes overnight for a drunk, but never more than that.”

“So...are you telling me I have to spend a night in jail?”

Michael laughed. “No, of course not...not tonight anyway. But maybe another night.” He sighed. “I just wanted you to know.”

Hannah nodded. “All right...thank you...I think.” She grinned, then stood on tiptoe to kiss her brother’s cheek. “See you then, Michael.”

“Bye sis!”

 

[1]. Nahko’e (Náhko’e) - Mother

[2]. ke’eehe (ke’éehe) – grandma

[3]. Šeheso – Little Snowbird


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is Friday!

** CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX **

_Friday_

On Friday morning Hannah woke up to the sound of Robbie and Little Porcupine talking quietly in their bed. She smiled. The boys had become so close and she was glad for it. And her father, seeing how much both boys had wanted to be together, had allowed Robbie to sleep in their tepee, and her brother had enjoyed the experience immensely. He had even asked if she could leave her tepee here when she moved into her own house. She had told him no, of course, because it was the tepee she had shared with her dead husband and she was not ready to leave it behind as of yet, but she had promised to ask their father for permission to make another one to put in its place.

As she listened, she continued to smile. Neither spoke the other’s language fluently, but communication did not seem to be a problem. As well as using words, Robbie had picked up nearly all of the People’s hand signs, enhancing their youthful conversations which might have been difficult otherwise. But both were extremely patient. Both _wanted_ to learn, to understand one another.

She thought briefly of Little Snowbird and Katie. They were inside her parent’s house. Little Snowbird liked being in there much more than did Little Porcupine. She also loved the clothing, whereas Little Porcupine abhorred them, preferring instead to wear his breechclout whenever he could get away with it. He’d taken to wearing his leggings most of the time though, because he knew his white grandparents didn’t approve when he was so scantily clad, but he usually left his shirt off, unless they were going to be eating inside the big house.

“It time up,” she heard Little Porcupine say. “Go...ri-ver.”

“Are you going to bathe in the river _again_?” Robbie asked as he too got out of the bed. The child always seemed perplexed at the ways of his same-age nephew.

“Heehe’e.[1] Ev- _ry_ mor-ning bay-th.”

Even in the low light of the tepee Hannah could see her little brother’s frown.

“But it’s too cold,” he complained.

“Not cold. Is....” Little Porcupine stopped and frowned. “Is Meaneeše’he,”[2] he said. Then searching his mind for a translation, he tried, “Sum-mer?”

Robbie nodded.

“Eexovo.”[3]

Robbie nodded again, clearly understanding the other boy, but wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I hate taking a bath,” he said.

Hannah knew that it was true, she’d heard him protesting every time their mother pulled out the tub in the washroom and started pouring buckets of warmed water into it. And that happened only once or twice a week, depending on how dirty the boy had gotten himself. He didn’t even seem to like having his face wiped, preferring instead to just have smudges on it.

“Come. We go. Is...fun,” her son assured.

Robbie looked skeptical and Hannah could tell he was ready to say no. But then he nodded.

“All right. I’ll come with you.” But then he frowned. “But I’m not allowed to go to the river alone.”

That was when Hannah spoke.

“I will go. I need to get water.”

Little Porcupine looked at his mother and frowned slightly, and Hannah knew immediately that her son wanted it to be just the two of them. That he wanted it to be like when they lived with the People and only men and boys bathed together. She understood his need to do this, but it wasn’t possible here since her mother wouldn’t let Robbie swim without supervision. And their mother was right; it wasn’t safe.

“How about Hunter instead,” she suggested. “I bet he’s in the barn.”

Little Porcupine thought for a moment, then nodded, obviously liking that idea better.

Hannah watched as the two boys scampered off, then she too rose to begin her day. She wanted to get over to her new house so that she could attack the barn, but she knew she had to get through the morning here first; chores, breakfast—and probably an argument about her desire to go work on the house she would soon move into.

 

“I am leaving now. Do you want to come?”

Magen wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “I have no interest in working in that smelly old barn, Hannah, but thank you very much for asking.”

Hannah grinned. She’d known what her sister’s answer would be; Magen wasn’t big on hard physical labor, especially if it made her sweat. Nodding, Hannah swung up onto Whirlwind’s back. “Are you sure you do not mind that Little Snowbird stays behind with you?”

Magen shook her head. “Of course I don’t. We’ll have fun. We’re making cookies.”

Little Snowbird clapped her hands and squealed. “I _love_ cook-kies, Nahko’e.”[4]

Hannah rolled her eyes. “We all know that you love cookies, daughter.”

“Are you sure you do not want to stay and have cookies, boys?” Magen asked, clearly trying to tempt them into staying.

Robbie and Little Porcupine were sitting on Little Porcupine’s pony and both shook their heads, Robbie’s shake a little more emphatic; he was thrilled at being allowed to ride a horse without an adult sitting with him. Their mother had balked at the idea, but their father had convinced her that it would be all right. And Robbie was just beside himself and couldn’t give a damn about the cookies. Little Porcupine, on the other hand, was tempted by the promise of his aunt’s cookies. He too loved them, just as Little Snowbird did. The fact that he was allowed to ride alone whenever he pleased made his desire to go on this outing less urgent. He probably could have been easily swayed, but he wanted to be wherever Robbie was, so he shook his head when the other boy did.

“You will save for me?” he asked hopefully.

Magen nodded, then smiled at the wide grin she received. “Happy cleaning then,” she said, turning to her sister.

Hannah chuckled, then started away.

 

For most of the trip Hannah rode in silence, listening to the boys as they talked. They chattered on about everything—the ride, the trail, _the trees_. Even about the birds _in_ the trees. It made her smile to see that her son was so happy here. She had often wondered whether her decision to come home was a good one for her children. Had it been fair to them? she often asked herself. Was it selfish of her to do this? It _was_ selfish, she knew, but now that she knew they were happy here too, she was relieved.

“Nahko’e, a rider comes.”

Hannah focused on her son, then frowned at who she saw coming; it was Mr. Wyndham. “Go now,” she said to her son. “Go to the ranch and tell someone where I am.”

Little Porcupine glanced up at his mother with a frown. “Who is this man?”

“I will be fine. Just go.”

Little Porcupine nodded and gave his mount a kick to get to the turn off before the man reached it.

 

“Mr. Wyndham,” Hannah said stiffly, stopping several yards from the man.

“Miss Cooke.” He tipped his hat and squirmed slightly in his saddle. The fact that he wasn’t wearing appropriate riding attire told her the stuffy hotel owner didn’t ride often. Then she remembered how poorly his son rode and now knew why.

“What can I do for you?” she asked, wondering why he was on Cooke land when it was obvious that he was uncomfortable being there.

“I wondered if I might have a moment of your time.”

Hannah nodded. “I have a moment to give.”

“It seems that...my son has quite the affection for you,” the man said with obvious reluctance.

“Hmm, so it would seem.”

Pursing his lips and frowning at her, he said, “Are you two not friends, Miss Cooke?”

“We _were_...until this week.”

Mr. Wyndham shook his head. “My son told me what happened, Miss Cooke, and—”

“I did not hurt Jesse without reason, Sir.”

Mr. Wyndham nodded. “I am aware of that...and I don’t blame you for being a little angry, but—”

“He forced himself on me, Sir. I am more than _a little angry_.”

“I.... That _is_ what he told me. And I am sorry. But apparently he sees himself in love with you and he has it in his head that you have feelings for him as well.” He paused, then continued when she didn’t say anything. “I think he could be easily persuaded to drop the charges if you’d at least agree to let him court you.”

Hannah frowned and shook her head. “Even if I wanted to, Mr. Wyndham, which I _do not_ , I cannot do that. I am to be married next Wednesday.”

Mr. Wyndham sighed. He couldn’t understand why his son wanted the leavings of some Indian brave, but the fact was that he did and Jesse was used to getting what he wanted. Maybe she could still be convinced, he thought, if only he could get her into town. “Could you at least come into town and talk with him?”

Hannah shook her head again. “I am sorry, but I don’t have time for this at the moment. I have much work to do.”

“But he is insistent that he see you. Do you know how difficult it’s been to keep him from riding out here?”

Hannah laughed. “It is good that you have. Jesse cannot ride worth a damn, Sir. Do you know how poor a rider your son is?” she asked.

Mr. Wyndham frowned. “You don’t have to be cruel, Miss Cooke.”

Hannah was immediately contrite. “I am sorry. I should not have said that. And I regret what happened in town on Tuesday. I truly did not mean to hurt him, until he....” She shook her head. “But my decision stands. I feel no need to speak to Jesse again... _ever_!” she added for emphasis. “He was a friend, but he has since proven that he is not one now. I am done with this.”

“But this is _not_ over. He still wishes to marry you. He says he will press charges if you do not agree. Please,” the man begged, pulling his horse closer to hers and, reaching out quickly, clutched at her arm. “You _have to_ come to town and at least talk to him.”

Hannah immediately yanked her arm out of his hand and moved her horse backward to distance herself from him, then pulled her gun out and shot it into the air. “No!”

Mr. Wyndham’s horse, spooked by the gun shot, reared and unseated the man, then turned and galloped away. In the dirt at Whirlwind’s feet, the man scrambled to his feet and turned to flee.

But he didn’t get very far.

“Hold up, Sir!”

Mr. Wyndham froze.

“ _Hannah_?”

Hannah looked up to see her brother on the trail to her new home, and a dozen or so men on horseback behind _him_.

“Michael,” she said as she holstered her gun and nodded toward the man standing on the trail. “Would you mind escorting Mr. Wyndham off Cooke property?”

Michael scratched his head. “Would you mind telling me what the hell’s going on first?”

She shrugged. “Mr. Wyndham was just leaving, but his horse seems to have run off.”

So far Mr. Wyndham hadn’t said anything, but now, recovered from the shock of being tossed off his horse, he exploded.

“RUN OFF!” he hollered. “Your damned sister shot at me!”

Hannah laughed. “I did not shoot _at_ you, Mr. Wyndham. If I had, then you’d be dead; I do not often miss, especially point blank.”

The man’s eyes widened in the realization that the young woman had killed before.

“That is true, Mr. Wyndham,” both James and Michael said in unison.

“She nearly _killed_ me,” he sputtered. “I want her arrested! She is a danger to everyone who lives in Little Creek!”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “Oh, not _this_ again. Michael, I did not shoot _at_ him. I fired into the air. You know this by the sound my shot made.”

Michael sighed. “She is right again, Mr. Wyndham. And you _are_ trespassing on Cooke property. It’d be best if you returned to town. _Here_ , I’ll loan you my horse,” he offered as he moved to get down.

Mr. Wyndham immediately started backing away. “No. I do not want your horse. I will walk. And do not think I will forget this. Your sister is a menace, and _you_ , Sheriff, are not fit to protect if you cannot control her.”

Michael shook his head. “I’m afraid, Sir, that you have that wrong. I have served this town honestly and fairly for the last eight years; I think that I know what I’m doing. And I know the law. Hannah is on her own property, minding her own business. You are the one out of line here, not her. I suggest that you leave this moment before you find yourself in irons and on your way to jail. Or worse, confronted by our father, who’d have no qualms about shooting you dead for touching his daughter.” Michael hadn’t missed the red marks on his sister’s upper right arm.

“Humph!” was the only sound that came out of Jesse’s father before he turned tail and stomped off.

 

“Hannah, this has to stop happening,” Michael scolded. They’d reached the house and the hands had all gone back to whatever projects they had been working on, but Michael had stopped her before she could hurry away when the men did.

“Yet again, Michael, I did not do anything. As you said, this is our land...and he was trespassing. And I did not shoot _at_ him. You know this.”

Michael sighed. “I do know that, Hannah, but it is getting increasingly difficult to take care of you.”

“Then stop it!” she snapped. “I am not your responsibility.”

Michael ground his teeth and ran a hand through his hair. She was right, it _wasn’t_ his job to watch out for her. But he had this uncontrollable need to protect her. He didn’t know if it was because she’d been gone so long and had deprived him of doing it when she was younger, or if he was just as bad as their father with his need to take over. That was what was _really_ bothering him, he thought.

“No, you are not...but you are _my_ responsibility. Or will be after next Wednesday.”

Michael and Hannah turned to see Black Hawk standing there. It looked like he’d been running.

“I saw Mr. Wyndham on the trail while I was riding in. What has happened now?”

Hannah and Michael sighed.

“He came to try to convince me to see his son.”

Black Hawk frowned. “And?”

“And we argued.” She shrugged. “Then he came at me, so I fired a round into the air to get someone to come help me.”

“I heard the shot.” He was pleased to hear that she’d attempted to draw attention to the situation and had not tried to handle it solely on her own. “That is why I hurried. I am glad you are unhurt,” he said, reaching for her and pulling her into his embrace.

She smiled and hugged him back. “As am I.”

“But why were you alone on the trail? I thought your father wanted you chaperoned at all times.”

Hannah pushed away from him then. “Oh damn! Not you too!” she said, then began to pace. Then, just as suddenly as she’d started pacing, she turned and started to walk away. “I do not have the energy for this!”

“ _Whoa_!” Black Hawk said. He hadn’t allowed her to take more than five steps before pouncing on her. “You do not have the energy for _me_? Let us go inside and talk on this, Ve’otse’e,”[5] he suggested.

She stopped and sighed, then they both looked at her brother. Michael only shrugged, then walked away.

**~oOo~**

Walking in the front door, Black Hawk led her through the dining room and into the kitchen where he pushed her into a chair, then turned and put on a pot of water for tea. She sat there silently watching as he then went to the cupboard and pulled out two cups, then began sifting through the different teas her mother had left for them, clearly intent on choosing her favorite. He was _still_ trying to care for her, even though she was resisting. She felt tears burn in her eyes.

When the tea had finally finished steeping, he handed her a cup, then took her free hand and led her out to the main living space. The room had taken on an amazing transformation; it was dust-free and smelled of fresh paint, the windows had been cleaned, and all the furniture had been uncovered and polished to a shine. It was like a brand new home. So why then did she seem so unhappy?

“Sit,” he said. Then realizing he’d made it sound like a command, he gentled his tone. “Please, woman who will soon be my wife, won’t you sit down with me and talk?”

Hannah sighed, then nodded and sat down.

He did the same. He didn’t miss that she’d made an attempt to hide her tears by pushing them away when she thought he wasn’t looking.

“Tell me what I am doing wrong and I will stop.”

She frowned. He wasn’t doing _anything_ wrong—unless loving her and wanting to take care of her was wrong. “You have done nothing wrong.”

“But I _have_ upset you.”

She shook her head, but he wasn’t fooled.

“I know that I’ve upset you, Hannah—your eyes would not shine with tears if I had not.” Her eyes filled then, her tears pouring down her cheeks; she could not stop them, and he could not stop himself from pulling her into his arms.

“I feel like everyone is controlling everything I do. I cannot go anywhere alone, or do anything I want or need to do. I can hardly even relieve myself without someone’s watchful eye on me.” She sat up and looked into his face. “It is...maddening!”

He grinned. “I have noticed that you don’t like this. You are an independent woman. That is part of what I like about you. But please do not worry, this will all be over soon and you will not have to answer to anyone after we are married.”

“Not _anyone_?”

He shook his head, completely serious, and she knew that he was.

“Well...except for maybe the _law_...and to God,” he added.

That made her smile. “That law part might come in sooner than we think.”

“Together, we will cross that bridge when we come to it.”

She laughed. “Together,” she agreed, putting her hand in his.

He nodded and squeezed her hand, then leaned in to kiss her.

“All right,” she said between kisses. “Now, _together_ , we should go work on that barn. Midnight and Whirlwind need a better home than what they will find down there, I think.”

Black Hawk scowled. “Yes, you are right. Our barn might be better burned down and rebuilt. Have you been in there?”

Hannah shook her head. “If you recall, I have not been _allowed_ to do any work here...not like _some_ people.”

He grinned, but ignored her reference. “Well, let’s go see what you think. _I_ think we need a new barn entirely. The one currently standing looks as if it won’t be much longer.”

 

Walking around and then into the old nine stall barn convinced Hannah that Black Hawk was right; the barn wasn’t fit to use as an outbuilding, let alone house the horses they loved so much. On the outside there was extensive water damage, and now that she was on the inside, she could see that the damage had rotted through. Only five stalls had working doors and many of the slats on the backside of the barn were missing altogether. Glancing up into the rafters, she also noticed that the roof was starting to cave.

“Well this won’t do,” she said with a frown.

“This is what I was trying to tell you. It is bad.”

“But we don’t have time to get a new one up before we move in. What will we do?”

Black Hawk shrugged. “Only Midnight is used to staying inside, Hannah. But he can stand the elements just like the others...for a little while at least. It is summer. And Whirlwind and the children’s ponies are accustomed to being outside a lot. They can survive a few months without a roof over their heads.

She nodded. “You are right. But I want it built before winter sets in.”

“It will be.”

“And we need a bunkhouse too.”

“A _bunkhouse_? What for? We have no hands.”

She grinned and, her eyes twinkling, she said, “I want to run horses.”

“Horses? But I told your father that I’d work cattle on the C with him. How can I do that and run horses?”

She shrugged. “I do not know yet, but that is what I want to do. We have all those horses out there,” she said, flinging her arms at the rolling hills. They couldn’t see any of them at the moment, but they both knew the equines were out there somewhere. “We might as well find a way to use them. We’ll break them, then sell them.”

Black Hawk frowned. He knew they could make a lot of money that way, but he wondered where they’d find the time. “Well, all right, if you’ve got your heart set on bustin’ broncs, then that’s what we’ll do. But we’ll have to work that in with all the other things we have to do. I told your father I’d work for him and I won’t back out. And my father will need us every now and then too. I’ve always helped him at the clinic, and when he needs me to care for my sisters, I have to be available.”

Hannah nodded. “I want that too. We can do it all. Life will be busy, but we can manage.”

“I guess we’re going to need that bunkhouse, aren’t we?” he asked, thinking about the men they would need to hire and wondering where they’d find men willing to work for a woman and a half-breed. But he didn’t bring that up. He’d save that discussion for another time.

With a bright-eyed grin, Hannah launched herself into Black Hawk’s arms. “Do you know how much I love you?” she asked, pressing her lips to his.

Black Hawk tried to answer her as he held her close, but only a grunt escaped. He loved the way her body seemed to mold itself to his and was completely distracted by the fact that she fit against him perfectly, as if they were two halves of a whole. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep his hands off of her. He could hardly wait the five remaining days until he could see and touch her the way he wanted to right now. Feeling almost intoxicated by her kisses, he pressed himself against her and intensified the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers. Reaching one hand up into her hair to keep her mouth firmly affixed to his, he slid the other along her side and onto her buttocks, groaning as he felt her leg curl around his and her fingers claw into his back.

“Ahh- _hum_!”

Slowly coming apart, they dizzily looked toward the sound and saw that they had an audience. Just about everyone who was working on the property had come together at the same moment and they were all staring at them. They heard snickering and turned to see Robbie and Little Porcupine watching from the deck.

“Looks like things have been worked out,” Michael quipped.

“Worked out, my ass,” burst another.

Hannah groaned when she saw her father standing at the gate.

“What the devil’s goin’ on here? Did I, or did I not, say that I didn’t want them two left alone?” he bellowed, turning on James, the son who was nearest him.

“I—”

“Damn it to hell, James!”

“Oh Pa, come on,” Hannah said, going to her father to intervene on her brother’s behalf. “We are not alone. And we are _outside_ , what could possibly happen out here?” She knew the moment the words left her mouth that they were the wrong words.

Jon held up his hands and closed his eyes in an attempt to shut out the images flooding his mind. “I have seen more than I care to of _you two_ outside!” he snapped.

Hannah gulped.

“They were just kissin’, Pa,” Michael put in.

“Looked like more than kissin’! Looks ta me like I’d be a grandpa in mere months... _again_...if given the chance.”

Many squirmed at the man’s comments, but no one spoke.

“And what’s this talk of working things out?” Jon went on.

Everyone was silent.

“ _Well_?”

“Well, Pa...Hannah’s feeling a little bit...smothered, I think.”

“ _Smothered_? What the hell’s _that_ mean?”

“It means I’m tired of you men tellin’ me what to do, damn it!” she cursed. “I just want you all to remember who it is you are talking to. I rope, I ride...I shoot, just the same as the rest of you. Could you not give me some slack?”

Jon scratched his head and frowned. This wasn’t Magen he was talking to; he knew that. _This_ daughter could definitely take care of herself—and anyone else that came along. But it was hard to tame his natural desire to control things—and people.

“All right!” he finally said with a nod. But then he turned on Black Hawk. “But you keep your damned hands off my daughter until yer properly wed! I won’t stand for any more of this here shit!”

Black Hawk nodded. “Yes, Sir!”

“It’s JON, God damn it!”

“All _right_ now, I have an early supper ready for everyone. But first I want to know how many more of ya owe me two or more bits?” Mary hollered from the porch.

 

[1]. heehe’e (héehe’e) – yes

[2]. Meaneeše’he – Summer Moon (June)

[3]. Eexovo (Ééxóvo) – It’s warm.

[4]. Nahko’e (Náhko’e) - Mother

[5]. Ve’otse’e – Warpath Woman


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's SATURDAY...for any who are reading!  
> ............................................I think no one! Haha.

** CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN **

_Saturday_

Black Hawk rode toward town beside Hannah’s two older brothers. Michael had ridden out to the ranch at shortly after four o’clock in the afternoon with a message that his father wanted to see him. The sheriff seemed to think there was no trouble, no need for them to hurry, but he was tense nonetheless. Just the fact that his father had sent the sheriff out to get him made him think something was wrong, and he wanted to dig his heels into Midnight’s flanks. But he did not do this.

And James had just come along for the ride; it was Saturday night and he’d worked hard all week, and now he wanted to have a little fun.

As they rode into town the three men went directly to the livery and had their horses stabled, then started out on foot. Black Hawk made the turn toward his house, but the other two stopped him.

“No, your father’s at the saloon,” Michael said.

Black Hawk frowned. “But it’s Saturday. Who is with my sisters?”

Michael shrugged, then started away. James followed.

For a moment Black Hawk thought he should go check on them. He’d been so busy lately, with working for the sheriff, and then with Hannah and the house, that he’d hardly been available to his father. Part of him felt guilty about it, because he knew how much his father needed him. But he also knew he needed this, that this was the natural order of things; children grew up and moved away, were with their parents less. His father had even told him that it was all right, that he would manage without him there all the time. Black Hawk had no intention of _not_ being there though, as soon as things got settled again.

He knew he _should_ go check on his sisters, but he didn’t. With a shrug, Black Hawk followed the two men. But where they should have crossed Main Street and turned down First Street to head to his uncle’s saloon, they continued on. Frowning, Black Hawk’s steps slowed. He was about five paces behind the other two.

“I thought you said...” he began in confusion, pointing across the street and in the direction of Harry’s.

“He’s at Black Harte’s,” was all Michael said. He’d thrown it over his shoulder without even looking back to see if the man followed and James just continued walking next to him. Neither wanted to stop and give Black Hawk the opportunity to object to where they were headed.

With a suspicious frown Black Hawk reluctantly followed them, entering the Main Street saloon with caution. It was another place that he did not frequent.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimly lit, smoke filled room, but when they did, he saw many familiar faces, mostly family and those who would soon be family, and a few others, the sheriff’s deputies and most of the Circle C hands. The saloon was filled with its usual patrons as well—some who were not so pleased to see the half-breed in an establishment meant for whites, but Black Hawk ignored them and turned questioning eyes on his father.

“You wanted to see me?” His confusion was evident.

Daniel Walker grinned. “Sure did, Nae’ha.[1] Just a few more nights of freedom for you...we thought we’d throw you a celebration.” He made a sweeping gesture at the others there.

Black Hawk frowned. “ _Here_? Why not at Uncle Harry’s?”

“B’cause he ain’t got whores in _his_ establishment, would be my guess,” the bartender said. Bane Harte, the proprietor of the saloon, had just set a bottle of whiskey down on a table where a group of men sat drinking and playing cards. “Can’t very well have a bachelor party without whores, now can ya?” The bartender turned around and headed back to the bar, leaving Black Hawk speechless.

“Oh, sit down son,” Jon Cooke said as he motioned for one of the saloon girls to bring them some drinks. “Don’t look so shocked.”

When Black Hawk hadn’t moved, Daniel said, “Neho’e,[2] just sit down and have a drink.”

Black Hawk watched as his uncle picked up the bottle on their table and started pouring glasses of whiskey, then slowly, he moved toward the table and took his seat. He noticed then that they’d even brought Hunter to the saloon with them, and wondered if Mary Cooke had any idea where her young son was on this afternoon.

“You gonna let him drink that?” Black Hawk asked in shock when a glass was set down in front of Hunter.

“One won’t hurt him! He can have Sassparella afterwards,” Jon replied. “Drink up!”

All Black Hawk could do was pick it up and down it. He wasn’t much of a drinking man, but he was too stunned to do otherwise and he knew it was expected of him. He just wondered what _else_ was going to be expected of him. He glanced nervously around the room and was sorry he did when he caught the eye of one of the soiled doves and, receiving a nudge from the barkeep, she started toward him, her revealing dress swishing as she walked. By the time she reached him everyone else was sitting down enjoying their whiskey.

“Hello there, handsome!” the dark-haired, red satin clad girl said as she sat down on his lap and draped an arm around his shoulder, her ample breast pushing up against his chest as she reached to pour him another drink.

All Black Hawk could do was stare. He’d been in saloons before, and he’d purchased the services of whores on several occasions; it was the only way a man of his background was able to find a willing woman when he needed one. And _this_ woman, despite the fact that she’d been prompted first, was clearly _more than_ willing to service him. She was pretty enough, he noticed, if not worn by time on the job. That was the way they all were; they never stayed young-looking long in this line of work, and this one, though probably only around twenty-five or so, had a tired look about her. They _all_ looked tired, their eyes just a little empty. In the past it had not concerned him; he had been there for one thing and one thing only—release.

But it had been quite some time since he’d visited one of the houses of ill repute, and it’d never been in Little Creek. He’d always wanted to keep that part of his life separated from the town in which he lived, and the people he had to see on a daily basis. They may not like him, the people in Little Creek, but he’d always felt that it was better that way, better to keep his affairs private. And better for the doves as well; he was well aware how white men felt about women who slept with a red man, even a whore had to be concerned about this, for fear of losing her other patrons. And a half-breed was considered even worse.

But now it was being forced on him, and by those who would soon be family. Glancing around, he suddenly realized that all their eyes were on him, and that, though the music still played and the rest of the room seemed to be watching as well, they were all waiting. But for what, Black Hawk didn’t know. He eyed his soon-to-be in-laws and was more than a little confused. _Why are they doing this_? he wondered. Were they testing him? But, as he studied them he could tell that they were not; this was just what it seemed, a night to honor him and his last few days of freedom. It was typical, he knew, but not what he wanted. Not like _this_ anyway.

Fiddling with his collar, the woman leaned forward again, her breasts nestling up against his chest as she wrapped her other arm around his neck, her painted lips going for his. With a frown and a quick move, Black Hawk turned his head, causing her kiss to fall on his cheek instead.

With a coy smile, she leaned back slightly and said, “I missed.”

“No Ma’am,” Black Hawk replied. “ _I_ missed.” With that he grabbed her firmly by the waist and gently set her from him.

She stood there staring at him for the briefest of moments, then tried again. Lifting her booted foot up and, resting it on the chair between his legs, she leaned forward so that her bosom, white and creamy and smelling of lilac perfume, dangled enticingly in front of him. He glanced down. The woman’s dark nipple was exposed, mere inches from his face, and he could not miss that her skirt had fallen open to well above her knee, her thigh as milky white as was her breast. And then she took his chin into her hand and brought his eyes back up to hers.

“We will not miss this time,” she said as she went for his lips a second time. This time they did connect, but he did not respond. He could not. She was not Hannah. After a moment, she pulled away and stared into gray eyes that had turned cold. Discouraged, she glanced at the saloon owner who stood behind the mahogany bar. When the man shrugged, the woman slowly backed away, then moved on to someone new.

 

“Now that she’s gone, do you want to play a hand?”

Black Hawk’s eyes quickly swept the table. Though entertained by the show—the temptress coming on to him—those sitting at his table had started a game of poker.

Black Hawk tried to smile. “I think that I might?”

Jon Cooke smiled, then nodded at the cards on the table. They’d already dealt him in.

**~oOo~**

Mary scowled as she pulled the pot of stew off the stove. “I cannot _believe_ your father took Hunter with him!” she ranted angrily. “He’s _but a child_.”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “We drink here all the time, Ma. I don’t think a whiskey or two in a saloon will kill him.” She’d spent most of the day with Black Hawk, moving her things, tepee included, over to their new house, and she’d only just returned. She hadn’t actually been told where her brothers were taking Black Hawk, but when she’d arrived on the C and her father and Hunter, and all the hands, were gone, she had a good idea.

Mary stopped and frowned at her daughter. “Do you know what goes on at these things?” she asked, wondering if her daughter, experienced as she was, knew _anything_ about pre-wedding activities. After all, she’d run away before she could be properly educated in such matters.

Hannah smiled, then nodded. “Sure I do, Ma...drinking, gambling...whoring.”

Mary’s breath puffed out of her lungs. “Then how can you be so calm?”

Hannah shrugged and began pulling the supper dishes out of the cabinet. “Black Hawk is not my husband yet, Ma. And even if he was....” She shrugged again. The idea of sharing her husband with another was naturally a foreign concept to her, but she’d lived among a people that practiced polygamy and she understood its necessity for them. It was not _pleasant_ , but she had accepted it many years before.

“Well, my _son_ is _too young_ to be in _there_!”

Hannah laughed. “Hunter’s fifteen. It certainly will not hurt him to spend a night with a—”

Mary’s head snapped quickly to look at her eldest daughter. “Don’t you even say it!”

Hannah shook her head. “It’s just a part of life, Ma.”

Mary sighed. “Sometimes, Hannah, I think you’re not my daughter...or rather, _a daughter_. Maybe my first three births were _all_ male,” she said, almost to herself.

Hannah chuckled. She knew that she tended to think more like a man sometimes. There’d been plenty of times when she’d wished she were one, that’s for sure. “Ah, Ma, it’s just a drink. I had one in Harry’s one day,” she admitted.

“You _what_? I know I told you never to set foot in a saloon. Explain!”

Hannah shrugged. “I was looking for Black Hawk, but found his father instead. Beer is...not so bad. Better than whiskey anyway,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

Mary turned around and started stirring her stew, almost violently. “And what about the whoring? Is Hunter old enough for _that_?”

“He is almost the age I was when I married Windwalker. He is almost a man.”

Mary stopped stirring abruptly. “He’s still a boy, Hannah!”

“I was a woman at fifteen, Mother. Hunter is not too young. Besides, they are there for Black Hawk, not Hunter,” Hannah reminded.

Mary was clearly frustrated. Now she moved the pot back to the stove and began stirring again. “Hannah, you are talking about your fiancée. He is out _whoring_...and your father and brothers planned it.”

Hannah sighed. She hadn’t said that she was happy about it, but it didn’t seem like something to fret over. Whatever happened tonight— _happened_. It wasn’t like she could stop it, unless she wanted to ride into town and make an ass of herself. Being upset or angry about it just seemed pointless. “I know well who planned it, Ma, you do not have to remind. But it does not matter.”

“Doesn’t _matter_?” Mary burst, waving a stew-covered spoon about and flinging bits of broth about the room. “How can you say that?”

“It is not as if Black Hawk is marrying a virgin, Ma.”

Mary stared at her daughter. “I think you owe me two bits.”

Hannah smirked. “For using the word _virgin_?”

Mary nodded.

Rolling her eyes, Hannah pulled out the tiny bag hanging from her waist and put a quarter on the counter. “Happy?”

Mary looked at the coin sitting there and frowned. She was _not_ happy!

“I am tainted... _ruined_ , most would say.”

Mary scowled. “You are not! You fell in love. It doesn’t matter that the man was an Indian.”

“I know that. And _you_ know that. But others do not agree.”

Mary sighed. “Well, it doesn’t matter what others think. Only what you think.” She paused. “How can you be so unaffected by this? What those men are doing...it is _wrong_!”

“On Wednesday, Ma, Black Hawk will marry _me_ , not anyone in that saloon. I know that he loves _me_. Whatever happens there tonight....” She shrugged. “Is not really important.”

**~oOo~**

Michael scowled and threw down his cards. Another bad hand. But then he smiled up at the gal sitting on his knee. Dressed similarly to the rest of her ilk, and painted up fancy, she as doing everything she could to entice the town’s handsome sheriff up to her room. And it was working too. Michael’d had a few too many drinks and he’d lost just enough hands to be almost ready to quit.

“Ya ‘bout done, Sheriff,” she said, flirting heavily.

“I think so Rosie,” he replied, eyeing her shiny pink dress and the bobbles hanging from her ears.

“How’s about...yous comin’ on upstairs then?” she asked, whispering into his ear.

Michael glanced around the table. Needing to get back to work, his deputies had bowed out much earlier, giving him the freedom to have the night off. James, who had had one of the cute new tarts sitting on his lap all evening, had also disappeared, but he had not left the establishment. A few of their father’s men had done the same, while others had left for the night. And his father, Hank, Daniel, and Harry were smoking cigars in a corner and playing a quiet game of poker and finishing off an expensive bottle of whiskey. Only Black Hawk and Hunter had remained at the table for the entire evening, a few others joining them for a short time.

Michael looked at his younger brother. Hunter had sat wide-eyed most of the night, a little surprised by what he was seeing. Being raised on a ranch he knew the ins and outs of procreation, but he was seeing a new side to it—the purely pleasurable side.

And Black Hawk had taken the evening good-naturedly. They’d fully expected to get the man rip-roaring drunk and into the bed of one of the whores for a last time turn in the sheets, but the man hadn’t been interested, not in the least. Michael was glad for his sister. Though the evening’s activities were traditional, he couldn’t help feeling just a bit guilty for the part he’d played in it, and he wondered how Hannah would react when she found out—if she didn’t already know. Most women would be furious for sure, and Hannah _did_ have a temper. But he tried not to worry about that now.

“I think not,” Michael said with a glance at his younger brother and a sigh.

“Oh come now, Sheriff, you’re leaving a poor girl all alone. I’ll do all three of ya for the price of one,” she offered, hoping to at least make _some_ money.

Michael smiled. “Tempting, Rosie, but I don’t think so, not tonight...my own bed’s calling out to me.”

Rosie sighed, a pout on her pink lips, but she moved off the man’s lap. Standing up as well, Michael pulled out his money clip, took out several dollars and slipped them into the woman’s dress. “This ought to pay for the time you wasted on me, Rosie,” he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. He didn’t want her to feel cheated.

The woman smiled up at him. “Time spent with you, Sheriff, is _never_ a waste.” Then looking at the other two, she said, “ _Night boys. Some other time perhaps_.” Then she turned and walked away.

“Let’s call it a night, Hunt?”

Hunter had a huge grin on his face, but he scrambled to his feet at Michael’s words. The evening had certainly been an educational one, despite the fact that _he_ didn’t end up on the second floor with one of the painted ladies. He was a little tipsy, from one too many whiskeys, but he’d had a fun night, and he definitely hoped his father would let him come along on another night.

“How about you, Black Hawk?” Michael asked.

Black Hawk shrugged. In spite of the fact that he’d been tricked into coming, and then coerced into staying, he’d had a nice evening as well. It wasn’t often that he sat in one of the town’s many establishments with other men, talking and laughing as if he fit in just like anyone else, and he felt at peace. He knew that a lot of it was the whiskey he’d consumed; alcohol always seemed to have a calming effect on him, but it was a nice feeling nonetheless.

“I think I’ll head home as well,” he said. Quickly finishing off his drink, he stood up as well. Making their way to their fathers’ table, the three men bid the four older ones a good night, then left the building.

“Hey, why don’t you stay at my house tonight,” Michael offered. “We can have another drink...I’ve got a great bottle of scotch that I’ve been dying to open.”

Black Hawk considered it for a moment, then nodded. “Sure.”

 

[1]. Nae’ha – Son

[2]. Neho’e (Ného’e) – Father


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's...Sunday!

** CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT **

_Sunday_

Stretching out on her double, four poster bed, Hannah squirmed in her sheets, then pulled her pillow over her head. She’d stayed up too late again, talking with and comforting her mother about what the men had been up to. As it turned out, they’d raided her father’s liquor cabinet and had gotten themselves completely drunk. And now all she wanted to do was sleep. But she heard voices outside her bedroom, and a giggle or two.

“Nahko’e,”[1] she heard her son calling as he slowly pushed her door open, its hinges squeaking from disuse.

She opened her eyes just a slit and grunted.

“Are you getting up? It is Sun-day. We have to go to chur-ch.”

Hannah frowned. “Yes. I am up. Is eskeme[2] awake?”

“Hova’ahane.”[3]

“Hova’ahane?” She opened her eyes wider and saw four pairs of curious, blue eyes staring back at her. “Where is she?”

“Still sleeping, I guess.”

“Magen?”

“Sleeping too?” Robbie said.

Hannah sighed, knowing they’d have to get up and get moving if they were to make it into town on time. “Robbie, maybe you could go wake Ma. And girls....”

“We will wake Magen,” Katie said with a giggle as she grabbed Little Snowbird’s hand and the two flew through the door that connected Hannah’s bedroom to her sister’s. Then slightly louder than she would have preferred, the door closed. Only Little Porcupine remained.

“What do you want me to wear to chur-ch?” he asked quietly.

Hannah frowned and pulled the pillow back over her head. This was _too much_ this early in the morning. “I do not care. Wear whatever you want,” she grumbled, the pillow muffling her voice slightly.

“Moccasins?” he asked hopefully.

“Uh-ha.”

“Do I have to wear a shirt?”

Hannah smiled underneath the pillow. The boy would run naked if she let him. “That would probably be good.”

There was a moment of silence. Hannah almost thought her son had gone. But then he spoke again. “Are you all right, Nahko’e?”

“I will be fine, Nae’ha.[4] It is just the whiteman’s firewater. I should not have had so much.”

Little Porcupine nodded. He had seen the effects of firewater on the men in their village. It was not good. On occasion his father had indulged, but never to excess. His father had always said that too much of anything wasn’t a good thing. And, for the most part, it wasn’t permitted within camp. But that didn’t stop some from having it at times.

“I should not have had _any_ ,” she amended.

Slowly, he crept closer. Then he crawled up onto her plush bed. “Neho’eehe[5] used to say that it is okay, if you do not have too much.”

Hannah smiled, but the effort pained her. “I think I had too much,” she said, grabbing her aching head. “Your father was a smart man. I will remember his words the next time I feel like having some.”

Little Porcupine watched her for a moment. She seemed to be in such pain. “Maybe we should stay home from chur-ch this day.”

Hannah smiled again. “Do not try to get out of church. Eskeme would not be happy if we did not come.”

Little Porcupine sighed. “I do not like chur-ch.”

Hannah sighed. “I do not like it either,” she admitted. “But it is something we must do here.” She paused. “How about...you ride your pony into town today,” she suggested. She knew her son didn’t like church much, he’d just said so, but he’d go almost anywhere if he could ride.

He smiled. “I do not have to ride in the wa-gone?”

Hannah shook her head. She knew that, to him, riding in the wagon was like riding on the back of a travois, the way the old had to travel among the People.

His smile broadened and he nodded.

“All right then, I had better get up.”

 

Mary stood on the front porch, frowning as she waited for her daughters to hitch up the team. Even the large hat she’d donned wasn’t enough to prevent the bright light of the sun from reaching her eyes. She was in a terrible mood and her splitting headache was only the half of it. When she saw Magen driving the wagon toward her, she signaled the children forward.

“Here, I will help you, Ma,” Hannah said. She’d followed Magen out of the barn on Whirlwind, but was off the mare and at her mother’s side in the blink of an eye.

“I’ve got it,” Mary said irritably as she lifted her skirts and placed her boot on the foot rail of the wagon. When she wobbled slightly, Hannah steadied her, then waited as she settled herself.

“The next time I say I want a drink, remind me not to consume whiskey,” she said as she seated herself. “I abhor that stuff.”

Hannah smiled, thinking that just about any alcohol at the volumes they’d consumed would have their heads aching and stomachs turning. “The willow bark will work quickly, Ma. Before we get to town you should be feeling better.” After having some herself, she’d brewed her sister and mother each a cup of tea, but the older woman had been in such a foul mood that she’d neglected to drink it until Hannah had practically forced her to. “Ready?”

Mary pinched the bridge of her nose, then nodded as she glanced at her daughter. “You’re wearing a dress.”

“Yes.” She had been unsure about the purchase, but even she had to admit there were times when one of her doe-skin dresses was less than appropriate, and feeling less rebellious now, she decided that she wanted it. “I asked Michael to pick it up for me...for church today. Do you like it?”

Mary nodded. It wasn’t a dress really, but instead a riding outfit consisting of a tan and crème fitted blouse with wing-tip collar and long puffed sleeves, over a tan split riding skirt. Mary smiled despite the pounding in her head. “It’s lovely. But maybe you ought to ride in the wagon.”

Hannah smiled. “Nice try, Ma,” she said as she lifted first her sister and then her daughter into the back of the horse-drawn vehicle. “I am happy that you like my outfit, but I will ride Whirlwind...just as I always do.”

As her daughter swung up onto her horse, it became obvious that, though she wore a dress, she had neglected to put on the appropriate shoes.

Mary rolled her eyes, the action causing her to grimace. “Well, it _was_ worth a try,” she said, trying to ignore the moccasins on her daughter’s feet. Then looking around, she said, “Where _is_ my parasol?”

“A hat _and_ a parasol, Ma?” Magen questioned.

“My head hurts,” was Mary’s response. Finding her parasol, she snapped it open and hid beneath it.

Magen chuckled slightly; her head hurt as well, but the pain was fading, thanks to her sister’s willow bark tea.

“So, wagon or horse?” Hannah asked as she turned to her brother.

“Horse,” the boy replied at he same time that his mother said, “Wagon, of course!” She was now wide-eyed and paying full attention once again.

“He will get dirty,” she complained.

Hannah and Magen both laughed. “Robbie is _always_ dirty, Ma.”

“He could fall off and get hurt,” she said, eyeing the spunky, black and white tobiano horse her grandson owned.

“I not let Rob-bie fall, Ke’eehe.[6] I prah-miss,” Little Porcupine tried to assure her.

Mary frowned, clearly trying to come up with another objection. “That’s an awfully large horse for such small boys, Hannah.”

Little Porcupine frowned. “Not too small for pony.”

“Ma, my son has been riding for years...Robbie has to learn _sometime_.”

Sighing heavily and grabbing her head, Mary finally gave a nod. She just wasn’t in the mood to argue.

And then they were off.

 

Hannah had offered to stable the horses at the livery and was glad her mother had taken the children with her. The day before she’d agreed to meet Black Hawk at his father’s house, so after unsaddling her own horse and getting her settled, she thanked the livery man and headed on out.

But after knocking several times, and frowning at the unanswered door, Hannah decided to check the clinic instead. That also proved to be empty. With a shrug, she headed for the hotel, knowing that was where she would find her parents.

 

“He ain’t home?” Jon asked.

Hannah shook her head, noticing her father’s scowl. One glance at her mother, arms crossed over her chest, told her her father’d already gotten an earful.

“Well, he left Black Harte’s last night with your brother,” the man said.

He’d almost whispered _Black Harte’s_ and Hannah wondered if he was making an attempt to push it under the rug.

“I assumed he was heading this way.” Jon side-stepped his daughter in an attempt to end the conversation. This was _not_ how he wanted to begin his day. He knew he should have considered beforehand the consequences of taking his future son-in-law to a whore-filled saloon and then staying out all night himself, but he hadn’t—not really. He _had_ thought about it, that the women wouldn’t be happy about it, but that was as far as it had gone. “He and Hunter must be at Michael’s.”

“Jonathon Cooke, you mean to tell me you don’t even know where our son is?” Mary cut in in astonishment, for the moment, her headache forgotten.

“Of course I do!” he snapped. “He’s with Michael!”

Mary stood there, tapping her foot angrily.

“All right, Pa. I will just go get them,” Hannah said good-naturedly. “We will meet you at church.” She turned then to her mother. “Would you mind taking the children?”

“Of course not.” Mary patted her daughter’s hand, then herded the children down Main Street toward the church. She didn’t bother to wait on her husband.

“Maybe I should come with you,” Jon finally said, suddenly a little worried about his daughter’s intended. If his daughter was as angry as his wife, the young man may need another man present.

Hannah shook her head. “That is not necessary. I know well where Michael’s house is.”

Jon frowned. “You are angry.” It was all he could think of to say. It was a statement, not a question, and not very insightful.

Hannah shook her head again. “No, I am—” she began, but she wasn’t given time to complete her sentence.

“Now _Hannah_ ,” he lectured, seeing her purse her lips. “This is not Black Hawk’s doing. The man has done nothing—”

“Pa, I am not angry. I just want to go find him so we can arrive at church together.”

Jon eyed his daughter carefully. “You truly are not upset.”

Hannah shook her head and smiled. “No Pa. I am not.”

“Well shit, girl! I’ve been frettin’ all mornin’.”

“Go to church, Pa. We’ll be along.”

 

Determinately, Hannah walked down Main Street. Few offered her a good morning, though she did nod at those who acknowledged her. Then, with a glance at the Black Hartes saloon, music playing and its doors already open for business at just nine o’clock in the morning, she crossed the street and made her way down C Street to her brother’s front door. She arrived just as the door was opening.

“Hannah!”

She smiled at her younger brother. He was clearly surprised to see her here. For a moment, she didn’t think he was going to let her in, but then he stepped back so she could enter.

“Good morning, Hunter,” she said, patting his chest lovingly. He looked to be feeling just as poorly as she felt, so she headed for the kitchen. “How about some tea?” She didn’t wait for a response. Instead, she pulled out the tea pot and filled it, then plopped it on the stove.

Hunter had nodded, though she hadn’t seen, and he was pleased when she finally handed him a cup.

“This will take care of that headache.”

“Thanks Hannah,” he said, taking a sip. “How’d you know?”

Hannah grinned. “I have seen that look...and I have touch of one myself.”

Hunter looked mildly shocked. “Were you drinking last night too?” he asked curiously.

Hannah held her thumb and index finger so that they were almost touching and said, “Just a little bit...a little too much, I think.”

Hunter laughed, and then he held his head and groaned.

“Drink up...this will work wonders.”

Hunter nodded and did what she told him to do.

“So...Black Hawk here?”

The young man nodded nervously, then stood up and started to back out of the room. “I’ll go get him.”

“No need, I know where the bedroom is,” she said as she picked up the two additional cups of tea she had brewed and headed for the stairs.

Hunter gulped and followed her. They met Michael on his way down.

“Hey Han,” he said, taking the proffered cup and hugging her. Then, in a futile attempt to slow her down, he grabbed a hold of her hand. “Black Hawk’s still dressing.”

Hannah grinned. “I was hoping that would be the case.” She heard Hunter gasp as she reached the closed door. Both her brothers were right behind her as she opened it. To her disappointment, Black Hawk already had most of his clothing on. But he was bare above the waist. “There you are,” she said, setting Black Hawk’s cup down on the dresser.

Black Hawk smiled at her. “Good morning,” he said as he pulled his shirt on over his head. When it was in place, he frowned at the men in the doorway. They were gesturing about... _something_. He frowned but didn’t have time to consider what they might be saying; Hannah had reached him and she had gone up on tip toe to kiss him. He kissed her back, but his attention was drawn back to her brothers, who still gestured frantically behind her. They then ceased movement as Hannah turned around.

“What?” he finally asked. But he only met with silence. And then Hannah spoke.

“I think my brothers _here_ , are trying to tell you to wipe this lipstick off your cheek,” she said, taking her thumb and rubbing it off for him.

His face reddened and, a hand immediately coming up to rub the evidence of his night out away, he walked to the mirror. When he turned around, both Michael and Hunter had disappeared and Hannah just stood there looking at him, her face impassive.

“Nothing happened,” he blurted.

She laughed. “Except for drinking too much?” She picked up the cup of painkilling tea she had brought and handed it to him. “I know.”

He took the cup from her, then said it again. “Nothing happened.”

“I know.”

Trying to reassure himself that she was truly not angry, Black Hawk studied her face. She just stood there staring at him, her blue eyes twinkling, a look of amusement in them.

He narrowed his eyes. “ _How_ do you know?”

She shrugged. “I do not know _how_ , I just do.” She smiled and turned away from him. Going to the door, she glanced into the hallway. Seeing no one, she closed it, then grinned at him wickedly as she turned the lock.

For a moment he just stared at her, then it was as if a light had turned on and he shook his head. “I promised my father that we....”

Before he could finish, her lips were on his. Pushing her tongue into his mouth to silence him, she nibbled as if she would devour him. Despite his promises, Black Hawk found himself responding, his resolve slipping. He could not help himself. Wrapping his arms around her and crushing her to him, he pressed his hardened manhood up against her soft stomach.

“Your brothers...they are downstairs,” he whispered, pulling back slightly.

“I do not care!” Her arms went around his neck, her legs clamping around his waist as he lifted her to him.

“We will wrinkle your dress...everyone will know.”

“Take it off then,” she suggested.

He frowned. “But...your father...he will kill me,” he said, his fingers going, almost of their own accord, to the metal buttons that ran down the front of her blouse. They were quickly dispatched.

“What can he do?”

“ _Kill me_.”

Hannah shook her head. “We are to be married. I belong to you now.”

Black Hawk grinned, then pulled open her blouse. But discovering another layer underneath, he frowned. “What are you wearing?”

For a moment Hannah could only laugh. “Much less than what my mother would like.”

His frown deepened as he stared at tiny white buttons on the garment.

“Now, I _know_ I am not the first woman you have undressed before,” she said, giving him a seductive smile.

He frowned and pulled his hands away from her. “Nothing happened, Hannah,” he told her again.

Sighing, Hannah took hold of his hands and brought them back to her chemise. “I _believe_ you.”

“So?”

“So...undress me, you fool.”

Black Hawk grinned, then pulled her blouse from her body and went to work on the buttons of her chemise. His large hands fumbling with the delicate garment, he frowned. “I don’t think I like white women’s clothes much; they are much too difficult.”

She grinned as she watched him, and waited, her anticipation at its peak. She was trembling.

“Is there anything else under here?” he asked.

Shaking her head, she watched as her dress, first her top half, and then the bottom, fell away. Soon she stood there in just her drawers.

“I didn’t think you even owned these,” he said, walking around her to see her from all angles. She stood motionless, letting him do what he pleased. “I think that I like them.”

She smiled. “I thought that you might,” she said. “But I can think of a better place for them.”

“Oh?” he said, eyebrows raised. “And where is that?”

Her finger slipped into her waistband and she smiled as she dropped them, leaving her naked before him. His intake of breath almost took hers away.

“I _do_ like them... _there_ ,” he said as the baggy fabric puddle at her feet.

Hannah turned then and reached for him. “You seem to be overdressed.”

He nodded. “Appears so.”

Her hands went to _his_ waistband. Making short work of his clothing put him in the same state of undress as she.

“We’ll be in big trouble if we’re caught,” he said.

She shrugged. “Who will catch us?”

“Michael _is_ downstairs.”

She shook her head. “He will not come upstairs. I promise you that.” She didn’t know how she knew that either, but she did. Starting a circuit around him, the same way he’d done to her, she let her eyes travel over his body. Admiring his flat stomach, muscled chest, defined arms, and tight ass, her hand followed, sliding over smooth, hairless skin as she trailed her fingertips over him. She felt him shiver.

“Touch me,” she begged.

Black Hawk reacted instantly, his hands moving over her, touching—his mouth following, tasting. It didn’t take long to have her splayed on the bed he’d slept in the night before. He bent over her body then, capturing a nipple with his mouth, his hand sliding down to her place of pleasure. His fingers found her wet and wanting, and squirming as they slid through her folds.

“I want to touch you,” she whispered.

With an arm over her chest, securing her to the bed, and the other caressing her womanhood, he prevented her from any action.

She groaned. “Black Hawk, _please_ ,” she whined. “I _need_ to touch you... _now_.” She lay still for a moment, then began to struggle, her foot hitting the nightstand and knocking over— _something_. They both ignored the clatter of whatever it was that hit the floor.

 

Michael and Hunter sat quietly in the living space below drinking their tea and listening to the clock tick—until they heard the loud noise from above. Frowning, Michael glanced at his younger brother. Hunter’s face held an amused grin.

“All right, you go on. I’ll wait here.”

Hunter nodded and stood up. “If you say so.”

Michael nodded. “I do.”

Hunter, halfway to the door, stopped when they heard another crash. This time it sounded like a piece of furniture had been overturned. Michael frowned again; he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. On one hand he knew he should go up and stop them. His sister should _not_ be doing what she was clearly doing. But, on the other hand, she was a grown woman, and one about to be married.

“You want me to go?” Hunter asked, undoubtedly interested in what he heard happening upstairs.

“Probably best.”

Hunter nodded, his disappointment evident.

“We’ll be...along.” Michael paused; a thud above stopping his words. This time it was as if something hit the wall. “Shortly,” he added.

Hunter grinned.

“This is not funny,” Michael scolded his younger brother, but couldn’t help his own amused tone.

“Of course it’s not,” Hunter replied seriously. “I’ll just go.”

 

As soon as Michael closed the door, he contemplated going upstairs. He paced for several minutes, listen to the unmistakable sounds of people making love, and roughly, he surmised by the sound of things. Removing his hat from his head, he clutched it in his hands. Then halting, he shook his head and headed for the stairs. But he was stopped by a rap on the door. He was surprised to see James when he opened it.

“Hunter told me you were here waiting for Hannah.” He was frowning. “Everything all right?”

Michael ran a hand through his thick blond hair and returned his brother’s frown, his gaze extremely troubled. “That all depends on what viewpoint you have.”

James shook his head in confusion. “What the hell does...?”

They both started as a thunderous crash came from the second floor, and then a final moan.

James’ eyes widened as he looked into Michael’s. “Please tell me that Black Hawk has already gone.”

Michael gritted his teeth, but did not respond.

“Damn it, Michael!” James cursed. He started for the stairs, only to be blocked by his brother.

“What are you doing?” Michael asked guardedly.

“What the hell does it look like I’m doing? I’m gonna put a stop to this!”

Michael shook his head. “It’s too late for that.”

“Like hell it is! He’s been told to keep his damned hands off her!”

“No,” Michael said. “It’s too late; they’ve been sleeping together for weeks, James.”

“How the hell do you know?”

Michael raised a brow and pursed his lips. “I’m not stupid. And why do you think Pa’s allowing her to marry him.”

James’ eyes widened. “Jesus Christ, Michael!” he burst. “So you’ve just allowed it to continue? It’s one thing after they’re hitched, but—”

“What am I supposed to do, James? Beat him up? Lock him in a cell? Restrain _her_?” Michael shook his head.

“For starters... _yeah_ , damn it! Shit, she’s our sister!”

“And that means, _what_ exactly? She can’t....” He stopped short. He didn’t like the line of the conversation, but now that they’d begun, how could they stop?

“Damned straight!” James burst. “You got that _damned_ straight!”

“So...what exactly should I do about you spending the night at the saloon?”

James stopped and frowned, his face turning red with anger. “Are you comparin’ Hannah to...the _whores_?”

Michael shook his head. “No, of course not. I’m comparing her to _you_. Why is it all right for you to...seek your pleasures, but not all right for her?” Michael had long wondered about this when he thought about the double standard.

“Because she’s... _a woman_!”

“I _had_ noticed that, but...why is that different?”

James shook his head. “‘Cause women are different.”

“Are they?” Michael asked.

James nodded. “Men have needs. You _know_ that! You spend plenty of time over at that saloon yourself, Michael. I know you know that.”

“And women don’t have these _same_ needs?”

James frowned. “Not our _sister_!”

“And because she’s _our sister_ , she’s devoid of...sexual needs? You ever see to a woman’s needs, James? Or do you just care about yourself?”

“I know well how to take care of a woman, Michael!” James snapped.

“So you think Hannah doesn’t have need of that as well?”

James instantly covered his ears. “I don’t want to talk about this. Are you going to go up there and put an end to this or am I?”

“I think it’s already ended.”

Both men glanced up the stairwell and, without wanting to, strained to hear any noise from above. There was only silence above them.

 

Lying in Black Hawk’s arms, her head resting on his chest as she listened to his heartbeat slowing, Hannah ran her hand over his smooth skin in a gentle caress.

“That was... _amazing_ ,” she said.

He kept his eyes closed, but he grunted an affirmative.

“I do not think I could have waited until Wednesday for that.”

“Nor I,” he said, his eyes still closed. “But we are going to be in big trouble.”

She only laughed.

“You think this is funny?”

She shrugged.

“Well, it will not be so funny when your brother tosses me in one of his jail cells and your father changes his mind about us marrying.” Black Hawk suddenly sat up, worried that just that was going to happen. “You know what towns like this do to half-breeds who take white women?” he asked as he pulled on his pants.

She smiled. “I do...but there was no _taking_ here...only giving.” Hannah stood up and pulled on her drawers, then reached for her chemise. After buttoning it up, she righted the night stand they’d knocked over, then put all the things that had fallen back in place. Luckily, they hadn’t broken anything. Finally she turned and looked at Black Hawk. “I give myself to you freely, Black Hawk. If minds change...if _my father_ changes his mind...then we would leave this place and not look back. But that will not happen.” Reaching up to him, she kissed him, then picked up her skirt and put it on. As she buttoned up her blouse, she went to the mirror to straighten her hair.

“Now, we best be going.”

Black Hawk could only smile at her. She was such a gift.

 

It was clear that James and Michael had argued, and Hannah had no doubt at the topic of their disagreement. James scowled at Black Hawk as they came downstairs, but didn’t say a word. Instead he rose quickly and left. Michael, ever the level-headed one, stood as well and, his face a touch red, he hurried into his kitchen where he set his cup down, then went to put on his jacket.

“Ready?”

Hannah and Black Hawk glanced at each other, then nodded and followed. Both were surprised to see James outside, sitting on the porch.

“You two go. We need to have a word,” he said, nodding at Black Hawk.

Hannah, of course, was ready to protest. Only Black Hawk’s calm face reassured.

“We will walk slowly,” Michael said, his words meant to tell their brother to make it fast. James nodded.

 

Once Hannah had disappeared, Black Hawk looked down at her brother. James hadn’t gotten up; he still sat in a chair on the sheriff’s front porch, but he was frowning, clearly disturbed by what had happened. Black Hawk had been afraid of this, though Hannah didn’t seem to be.

“You _are_ marrying her, right?” James asked.

Black Hawk frowned. “You know that I am.”

James nodded. “Just wanted to verify.”

“She’s not a child, James,” Black Hawk said plainly. “She has needs, just like you do.”

James frowned. What Michael had said to him about a woman’s needs didn’t sit well with him, especially when it came to their sister. But he did understand a man’s needs. And the fact that _this man_ had forgone his own the previous night, in order to stay true to the woman who would soon be his bride, was something that James could respect, even if the man _had_ made love to her when he shouldn’t have.

“Nope, Hannah certainly isn’t a child,” James agreed. “God forbid she hear me make such claims.” He shook his head and stood up. “I reckon she’d take that knife she carries to my throat.”

Black Hawk smiled. “I doubt she’d do that.”

James scoffed. “I wouldn’t put it past her.” He paused. “But don’t tell me about ‘er needs.” He shuddered. “I don’t think I can handle that.”

Black Hawk chuckled. “Any man with a sister could understand that.”

James nodded. “S’pose that’s true enough.”

Black Hawk waited.

“S’pose you got that outta your system now?” James asked, then continued when the other man said nothing. “Meanin’, now you can hold off until after the wedding?”

Black Hawk tried not to smile. “If _she_ can.”

James shuddered again. “I told ya not to tell me about that. Now let’s go,” he said, grabbing his hat and stepping off the porch. “They’re gonna wonder if I went and killed you.”

**~oOo~**

Sitting through services was almost painful. Hannah’s gaze kept going from the hand that held hers to the man who held it. He sat next to her and appeared unable to resist looking at her as well. Several times she’d received an elbow from her father, which was his way of bringing her attention back to the pulpit—but each time it had only lasted for a short time and she was back to fidgeting.

Now it was after services and the reverend was standing outside greeting everyone as they left the building. Hannah walked up the aisle behind her father.

“You just cannot behave that way in church,” Jon scolded. “It’s embarrassin’!”

“Yes, Pa,” Hannah said. She’d picked up Little Snowbird, who’d expressed a bit of fright at being herded out of the cramped church. Magen walked behind them, holding Katie and ushering the boys. And Black Hawk had the rear.

“I’m serious!” he snapped. “Do you see anyone else making eyes at another during services?”

Magen giggled. “I don’t think Hannah’s even aware that anyone else is even _at_ services.”

“That’s what I’m talking about. Her behavior is indecent!”

“Oh come on, Jon,” his wife piped in. “She’s young and in love. Any fool can see that.”

“I just don’t like lookin’ like a fool in front of everyone, Mary.” He glanced back at Hannah to see that she’d stopped and was standing with the Walkers, laughing and smiling, but mostly staring up at Black Hawk. “Would you look at that...I tell her to stop and what does she do, but continue her flirting.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a little flirting, Jon,” the reverend said. “Need I remind you that you and Mary here caused quite a stir yerselves back in our day.”

Mary blushed crimson. Their families had been intertwined for as long as any could remember. Coming to Little Creek together early on in its years and spending many of those years all living as one, they’d been the subject of gossip for many years of their lives.

Jon’s face reddened as well. He didn’t like it when people brought up the past. It had always been a thorn in his side, and he’d worked hard to overcome it. Mostly, no one spoke of it anymore, but that was in part because both his and Mary’s parents had moved away. In private, he might admit that he missed them, but there was too much bad blood between them to wish things were different—so he didn’t.

Red-faced, he led Mary away.

 

“Thank you, Reverend,” Black Hawk said. “We enjoyed services very much.”

“Did you now, son? I didn’t think you were even listening.” The reverend glanced between the two and waited. They just grinned at one another. Chuckling inwardly, he went on. “I’m so glad you did, Black Hawk. We’ll see you again on Wednesday,” he said, patting the young man on the shoulder.

“Wednesday, Sir?” Black Hawk asked with a slight frown.

“Your wedding day, son.”

Black Hawk nodded. “Oh yes, Wednesday. Yes, we’ll be here then.”

The reverend watched as the couple made their way through the crowd, followed closely by Hannah’s sister and the youngest children. He was truly happy that things seemed to be going all right for them. The previous Sunday in church had been unpleasant, to say the least, but they seemed to have weathered the storm well. But it was not over—not by a long shot. The reverend could see that the minds of some had not changed. He had heard about the incident with Jesse Wyndham and, looking at the man now, seeing the anger and frustration as he glared at Hannah and Black Hawk, the reverend knew it was not over.

 

“I hope you will come.”

“Of course I will be there,” Abigail said to her friend. “But...are you _sure_ this is what you want?” Abigail Kelly grimaced as she looked over at her friend’s fiancée; he was standing with Hannah’s two oldest brothers, and the three of them were laughing about _something_. “I mean...he’s....”

“An _Indian_?” Hannah finished for her. She was getting pretty tired of the way people judged so unfairly.

“Oh no, of course not. I mean...he _is_ an Indian and all, and you know my family’s not too fond of them,” Abigail said. “But...I mean.” She shrugged. “I don’t think I could ever marry again,” she explained with a shake of her head. “Men are so... _controlling_.”

Hannah smiled. “Not Black Hawk. You will see.” Hannah paused and looked over at her fiancée. Then she took Abigail’s hand and pulled on it. “Come. Meet him. You will see.”

Abigail glanced at the man to which her friend would soon wed and frowned. The man’s laughter had carried over to them and she could hear the deep timbre of his voice as he spoke, though she could not hear his actual words. “I...I don’t know.”

“ _Please_ Abby?” Hannah begged. “How can you come to my wedding if you haven’t even met my groom?”

Abigail continued to frown. “He is good to you?”

Hannah nodded.

“But how do you know that he will continue to be. M-Mick...he was good to me...in the beginning. But then he changed.” Tears filled her eyes. “And your husband...the other one...he took you away from here. That isn’t right.”

Hannah sighed. It seemed that no one listened to her. “Abby, I went with Windwalker of my own free will. I loved him. But now he is gone and I have been given another chance at love. I am happy. Would you really ignore that chance if it came to you again?”

Abigail’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t answer. At this point in her life she could not fathom that there’d be a man in the entire world worth marrying, but her friend sure seemed to be happy. Finally, she nodded.

 

Hannah had looped her arm through Abigail’s and squeezed it reassuringly as they approached the men. The men had been joined by a few others, both of Michael’s deputies and Hannah’s friend Kevin, and the three extra men seemed to make her friend a little more nervous.

“Good morning, ladies,” Jake said, removing his hat and smiling at them. The other men chorused his greeting.

Hannah smiled and nudged her friend. Abigail managed a weak smile, but didn’t look at anyone directly.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Hannah returned, looking at each man in turn. “It’s such a nice day, isn’t it?”

They all nodded their agreement.

“I was just bringing Abby over to meet Black Hawk,” Hannah continued. “I thought it might be nice if my best friend knew the man I am to marry.”

“Ma’am,” Black Hawk said, tipping his hat to Hannah’s friend.

Abigail glanced up at him and nodded politely. “A-Abby,” she whispered. “Y-you can just call me Abby.”

Black Hawk smiled. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Abby. I’m told that you and Hannah have been friends since _forever_.”

Abigail frowned slightly, but nodded. “Yes, ever since we started school.” She glanced around nervously, clearly looking for an escape.

“Well, I hope we can become friends as well,” Black Hawk said.

“Likewise,” she said quietly—so softly, in fact, that it was almost as if she hadn’t spoken. And then a bit louder, she said, “I think that I should be getting back.” Her luminous eyes went to Hannah, who nodded.

 

“See? That was not so painful...was it?” Hannah asked once they’d made their way a good distance from the men.

“I suppose not,” Abigail agreed. “He is very tall.”

Hannah smiled. “Yes, he is.”

“Even taller than Michael and James.”

Hannah nodded and smiled. She hadn’t been aware that her friend had ever even noticed her brothers.

“And his eyes...they are gray...not black.”

Hannah nodded again. “Yes, he gets them from his father. He tells me his brother’s eyes are the same color. But his sisters have dark eyes.”

“Hmm...strange how that happens,” she said, her eyes taking on a faraway look. “Jamie’s eyes are hazel.”

Hannah frowned. There it was again, the mention of Abby’s brother in the present tense, as if he still walked among them. What was wrong with her friend? And she was wrong as well, Jaime’s eyes had been _green_ , just as Abby’s were.

Again, Hannah didn’t know what to say. Should she say something? Should she put her friend straight? Or should she just ignore the reference altogether? She didn’t know what was best—but then the choice was taken out of her hands.

“Abigail, it’s time to leave.”

Both women turned to see Abby’s father beckoning.

Abigail seemed to focus a bit and, with a pained smile, whispered, “See? Controlling.” Then she walked away to join her parents.

Hannah watched her go, frowning slightly at her friend’s strangeness, then she too joined her family.

 

[1]. Nahko’e (Náhko’e) - Mother

[2]. eškeme (éškeme) – your grandmother (can also mean you mother-in-law)

[3]. hova’ahane (hová’âháne) - no

[4]. Nae’ha – Son

[5]. neho’eehe (ného’éehe) – my father

[6]. ke’eehe (ke’éehe) – grandma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's another clue (basically the same clue) about Abigail in here. Is she delusional? Hmm.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops! I accidently added chapter 32 again and had to delete. Haha.
> 
> Not that ANYONE cares, since no one is reading this!
> 
> Okay...so...here's the correct Monday chapter...39

** CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE **

_Monday_

“So, how did you sleep, Son?” Jon Cooke asked Black Hawk. They were in the barn, sharing Hunter’s morning chores, but the younger man had been fairly quiet as they worked—more quiet than usual.

“Oh fine, Sir,” Black Hawk replied as he poured feed into one of the horse’s grain buckets. He’d been allowed to stay in the house, in one of the many extra rooms and, at first, he’d had trouble falling asleep. Knowing that Hannah was in the same house, but out of his reach, had been very distracting, but he’d dealt with it and had finally drifted off. But it had been late, and morning on a ranch began at dawn. He was tired and he looked it.

“Jon.”

Black Hawk looked up with a frown, but nodded. He just couldn’t seem to make himself call the man by his name. “I guess I’m tired.”

“How ‘bout nervous?” the older man asked with a slight smile.

Black Hawk grinned. “No...not nervous at all. I look forward to Wednesday.”

Jon nodded. Most men were a little nervous when they were about to be wed, though most wouldn’t admit it, but Jon sensed Black Hawk was not one of those men. “Well good then, it makes for a better wedding. I wasn’t much for getting nervous myself.”

“That’s not what Ma says,” James put in from two stalls down.

Jon scowled at his son, who now stood in the barn aisle grinning. “I wasn’t talkin’ to you!” he snapped.

“Ma says you wore the wrong color socks...and that you dropped the ring three times.”

Jon rounded on his son. “And what else does she say?”

James smiled. “That you said you’d take her as your lawfully wedded _husband_ , instead of wife.”

Jon frowned. “I don’t remember that!”

James shrugged. “Well Ma sure does.”

Jon’s frown deepened. “Well...who asked you!” He hadn’t meant for it to be a question, but James responded anyway.

“You did,” he said as he ducked to avoid the horse-dropping that was now whistling in his direction. Laughing, he went back to the stall he had been working on.

“I might have been a touch nervous,” Jon admitted to Black Hawk several minutes later. “But I was younger than you are...not by much, but still younger.”

Black Hawk nodded. He understood nervous. Every time he’d had to talk to Hannah before he knew she was his, he’d been nervous. Every time she’d looked at him and smiled, he’d felt butterflies in his stomach. But that had changed—not the butterflies part; he still felt those and was certain he always would, but now that there was no doubt in his mind that she was his, that her father wouldn’t step in and take away their happiness, his heart had settled. He was not nervous about taking her for a wife, or about the wedding. In fact, he could hardly wait.

**~oOo~**

“Thank you, Ma...for allowing this,” Hannah said with a nod at the two extra place-settings at the breakfast table. After lunching with the Walkers after church the previous day, Black Hawk’s father had approached his future daughter-in-law about caring for his daughters; he had to ride out to a distant farm to see to some animals and wouldn’t be home until late, and he knew that his son had wanted to see his fiancée home.

Mary smiled. “Don’t think anything of it. They are family now...or will be, come Wednesday,” she said, setting a huge platter of pancakes on the table. “Just two more days.”

Hannah smiled, extremely grateful for how things were going, and that her father had given in.

“Where _is_ everyone? Everything’s going to get cold,” Mary complained.

And then, as if her words had called out to the house and all those in and around it, she heard a gaggle of giggles as the children came down the back stairwell and flooded into the kitchen with Magen close on their heels. And, within moments of that, the front door opened and the men came in, quickly crowding into the dining area.

“Is breakfast ready?” Jon asked, quickly taking his seat and scooting in. “I’m starved.”

Mary pursed her lips, then glanced at her eldest daughter and rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t he just look completely emaciated?”

Behind her, Magen giggled, and Hannah, standing on the other side of the table, grinned. So did most everyone else.

“You’d think I’ve been neglecting to feed the man. _Starving_? Humph!” She folded her arms over her chest and rounded on her husband with a glare. “Do you know what it takes to feed a group _this size_ three times a day, seven days a week?”

“Now Mary,” Jon started as he poked his fork, a bite perched on it, in her direction. “You know what I’m saying. Working in the barn makes a man hungry,” he said, shoving the bite of food in his mouth.

Mary shook her head, then began to scold everyone else. “Well now, hurry up, all of you! Sit down and eat before your father eats it all!”

Everyone quickly took their seats, Hunter sliding over a chair to allow Lilly to sit next to Hannah, and Black Hawk sitting down with three-year old Star on his lap.

“We do have a high chair, Black Hawk,” Mary offered. “Every one of this group, less my grandchildren, has used it.”

Black Hawk glanced at Hannah and grinned. “No thank you, Ma’am... _Mary_ ,” he corrected. “Star’s used to eating from someone’s lap.”

Mary nodded. “All right then, dig in.”

For several minutes, the only sound that could be heard was that of the group filling their empty bellies—the sound of silverware clinking on flatware and people happily chewing. Breakfast time at the Cooke table was usually filled with instructions for the day; Jon telling his sons where he wanted them for the day and what tasks he wanted completed, but with Hannah’s wedding just two days way, work on the ranch was still at a pause. No one had any Circle C work to do, other than keeping the animals fed, but that did not mean there wasn’t other work to discuss.

“So, how’s the house?” Jon asked.

“It’s ready, Sir.” Black Hawk smiled. “We could stay there tonight.”

Jon shook his head emphatically. “Not gonna happen, son...not until that marriage certificate is signed.”

Black Hawk’s eyes widened. “I-I didn’t mean that.” Then he realized Jon Cooke was trying to be humorous, that the man hid a rare smile behind his napkin.

“Gotcha!”

Hannah saw Black Hawk’s face redden and she shook her head. “Is that necessary, Pa?” she asked.

Her father only shrugged.

“That’s all right, Hannah,” Black Hawk said, trying to hide his discomfiture.

Mary cleared her throat then. “Your tepee’s all moved and set up?” she asked. She knew they would not need it over there, but she also knew that her daughter still wanted it—for whatever reason.

Hannah nodded. “Yes, Ma. It’s all moved and erected. Magen helped me.”

Magen grinned. “I’m getting good at it,” she said proudly. “Am I not?”

“You are...you should have one of your own.”

Jon coughed. “Well, _that’s_ not necessary.” He saw his eldest daughter roll her eyes and meant to scold, but she resembled her mother so much when she did that that he could not bear to do so.

“I was just saying, Pa, that Magen _could_ have one. That is all I meant.”

Jon grunted. His mouth was still full. But when he swallowed, he said, “I was thinking, we should bring at least a hundred head over there, spread them out a bit. No sense in you always having to be on the C.” He nodded at Black Hawk. “It’s hard being away from a new wife.”

Hannah and Black Hawk glanced at one another; both knew it was time to discuss their plans with her father.

“Well actually, Pa...,” Hannah began—but nervous, she paused.

Black Hawk reached out and took her hand, then looked at his fiancée’s father. “What Hannah is trying to say is...we’ve decided to work horseflesh at the ranch...not cattle.”

Jon stared at them. “Excuse me?”

“Well, with all those horses, we figure we can make more than a decent living running horses,” he said.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jon growled. “I thought you was going to help me on the C.”

Black Hawk nodded. “I will, Sir, it’s just that—”

“God damn it! What’s going on here?” He dropped his fork with a clatter.

Everyone stopped to stare at the man, especially Lilly and Star. Lilly’s eyes were wide and Star’s filled with fear. Jon Cooke’s outbursts were usually loud, but Black Hawk’s sisters were not used to such things; their father was a calm and quiet man.

“Actually, Pa,” Hannah cut in, taking Star from Black Hawk and holding her close to comfort her. “This was my idea.”

“Well shit, of course this is your doing!” Jon snapped as he glared at his oldest daughter.

“Jon! You’re frightening our young guests,” Mary scolded. Their own two youngest were used to their father’s rantings, and even the grandchildren had become accustomed to it, but Lilly and Star were not; little Star even had tears in her dark eyes. “And now you owe me three quarters of a dollar.”

Jon reached into his pocket and pulled out a dollar. “Here, this’ll cover the next one.”

Mary stared at the dollar on the table and frowned. Her plan to curtail the cursing in the house wasn’t working quite as well as she had hoped.

“With all those horses out there, Pa,” Hannah began to explain. “It’d be such a waste to not do anything with them.”

Jon grunted again. He could see his daughter’s logic, but he wanted another helping hand on the ranch. And Black Hawk had promised.

“I will still be available, Sir. Hannah and I have agreed do both, _and_ help out with my father’s clinic.”

“That seems like a mighty full plate,” Jon said with a frown. He glanced at the man’s two sisters, then his daughter’s children. Black Hawk and Hannah certainly seemed capable, easily taking care of all responsibilities. But things could change so fast in just a few short months. “Especially when _others_ arrive.”

For a moment both Hannah and Black Hawk stared at him with blank expressions, then comprehension dawned.

“I am _not_ expecting, Pa,” Hannah said. “How many times do I have to tell you that?” Of course, she could be after the day before, but she didn’t think so.

“That’s what you say...but that’ll change soon I’m sure.” Jon thought about how quickly a house filled with children, and how much more work there seemed to be when the little ones began to arrive.

Hannah blushed at her father’s implication.

Mary frowned. “Jon, is this necessary?”

“Of course it’s necessary, Mary. They’re starting off a marriage with two children and they think they can help me on the C, work in the clinic, _and_ break wild horses. And they ain’t considerin’ how hard it’s gonna be when she’s in the family way.”

Hannah frowned. “Yes we have. Obviously I can’t break horses when I’m with child. When that happens we’ll be forced to do other things for a time. We will hire some hands.”

Jon blanched. “ _You’re_ gonna do this?” He’d assumed his daughter’s fiancée was going to be the one doing most of the dirty work, breaking horses was hard work, and that she’d have other things to do—housey things, like her mother did.

Hannah laughed. “Of course I am. Did you think I would suddenly turn into Ma?” She quickly glanced at her mother. “No offense intended, of course.”

Mary sipped her drink, then shook her head. “None taken, dear.”

“You?” Jon asked questioningly. “ _You’re_ gonna break the horses?”

Hannah nodded. “Why not?”

“That’s dangerous work, Hannah,” he said with a frown.

She nodded again. “I know that. But I can do this.”

With a frown he looked at Black Hawk. “You gonna let her do this?”

Hannah rolled her eyes again—but Black Hawk grinned and spoke before she could.

“Are we talking about the same woman, Sir?” Black Hawk asked with a laugh. “I’m not sure there’d be any way to _stop_ her from doing this. A Cheyenne warrior does what he wants, even when he is a she, and your daughter _is_ a warrior.” He paused briefly. “Besides, Hannah’s the best I know.” He chuckled. “Haven’t you seen her working with the horses she brought home with her? She already has two of the three Pawnee war ponies retrained; she even gelded one of them herself.”

Jon raised a brow at his daughter. _Gelded_? He was impressed.

“I don’t think this is decent table conversation,” Mary put in, staring abjectly at her uneaten food. She rarely watched her family work the animals, let alone watching _that_ part of it. The cows were not even branded close to the house, and she usually had the chickens offed by one of her sons, or Hannah, now that she was home again.

But it seemed no one heard her protest.

“Yes, and one of them will be ready for Robbie in no time,” Hannah went on with a nod.

“Now wait just a minute,” Mary interrupted. “Robbie has no need of a horse.”

“Sure he does, Ma,” James put in. “We were all riding at ‘bout Robbie’s age...‘cept Magen.” He smiled at his sister; she had never been interested in riding, just as their mother hadn’t.

“But he’s only five.”

“No time like the present, Mary,” Jon said, grinning.

Mary frowned at all the faces looking at her. She’d been worried when each and every one of them started riding. In her opinion, only Magen was sensible enough to stand on her own two feet. But it seemed she wouldn’t win this one. “Humph!”

“So you see, Sir, we’ve pretty much thought this out. I’ll still work for you a few days a week...maybe everyday, but just half days.” He shrugged. “I don’t know...we don’t know exactly how we’ll do this. But Hannah wants to bust broncs...so that’s what we’re going to do.”

Jon continued to frown as he thought about it for another few moments. He had seen his daughter working with the horses and had to admit that she was good—damned good, actually.

“You do seem to have the touch, when it comes to them horses,” he acknowledged.

Hannah smiled. “I learned from the best.”

Jon sighed. It was known far and wide that the Cheyenne Indians were masters at training horses. Slowly, he nodded. If that’s what they wanted to do, then more power to them, he thought. “All right!”

 

Thirty minutes later, his stomach full, Jon sat back and rubbed his belly. “I have to say that you outdid yourself, Mary.”

“You just say that so I don’t call you a glutton.”

“No really, everything was perfect.”

There were nods of agreement. Mary smiled. “Well, thank you. And I’ll thank you all to bring your dishes into the kitchen. I’m not doing this all myself!”

Jon chuckled, but picked up his plate and stood. “All right all, you heard the woman. Let’s clean up!”

**~oOo~**

Jon frowned as he watched his daughter ride away from the house with her fiancée and the children. He hadn’t liked the idea of her being alone with the man, but when it had been pointed out that with four children to care for it’d be highly unlikely they’d have any privacy, he’d agreed to let her go. He knew they still had minor things to do at their house and that this was the last day they would have to do them. But it still didn’t sit well. He decided he’d give them _some_ time, and then send James over, or perhaps Kyle.

In fact, thinking of Kyle, he considered asking the man if he’d want to permanently work for Hannah and Black Hawk. It had never been a secret that the young man really didn’t like working as a cowhand, but he was good at the work, and reliable, so Jon had never questioned him. But now, after seeing him with the horses, Jon thought that, _maybe_ , working horseflesh would make the man happier. And there was the fact that he’d feel better about knowing his daughter had another man on her ranch who would stick up for her—just in case.

Watching as his daughter and her family rode out of sight, Jon sighed and, despite his decision to hold off until after the wedding, he turned toward the barn. Knowing that he could put in a few hours of work before the day was through, he quickly saddled his horse and rode out to join his men.

**~oOo~**

Hannah, on Whirlwind, with Lilly sitting, arms wrapped around her middle, glanced over at Black Hawk. The man sat on Midnight, his huge black beast, one arm curled around little Star, holding her securely in front of him as they walked along. It made her smile.

“What turns your mouth like that, Ve’otse’e?”[1] he asked, without even looking at her.

Her smile widened, but, for a moment, she only looked forward. Her son and daughter rode double in front of them on Little Porcupine’s horse, the two of them speaking quietly in Cheyenne as they went. Then, with a twinkle in her eyes, she looked back at the man. “I am thinking about how happy I am.”

When she paused, he said nothing; he could tell she was not finished.

“And that, _someday_ , I would like to give you a child of your own to hold...like you are holding Hotohkohma’aestse.”[2]

Black Hawk turned then. With a grin he nodded. “I would like that. To have many more sons and daughters to fill our home...nothing would make me happier.”

Lilly giggled then; she could not help herself.

“And what do you find so humorous, Sister?” Black Hawk asked with a slightly embarrassed grin. It was quite unlike this sister of his to remain silent for so long; they had almost forgotten she was there.

Lilly, her cheek pressed up against Hannah’s back, looked up at the woman who grinned down over her shoulder at her. “Oh nothing.”

“I think we have been caught...once again,” Hannah said.

“Hmm,” Black Hawk said with a nodded. “I do believe so.”

Lilly giggled again. “It’s odd to hear nahtataneme[3] speaking with such a light heart. In the past, he’s always been so bitter.”

Black Hawk blushed and his gray eyes clouded painfully, but he smiled in spite of it. “I have much to smile on now...a wife, two children...the promise of more children...a new home... _direction_.” He grinned over at the two females whose dissimilar features mirrored one another in expression. “What man would not find happiness in his heart at such a future?”

Lilly shrugged. She was too young to comment on such things. But Hannah shook her head. “Oh, I don’t know, I am sure that there are a great many men that could not handle such things...would not _want_ to handle such things.”

“Well this man does,” Black Hawk said firmly. “I do not even like to think about what my life would have been like, had you not come into it.”

Hannah frowned. Though flattering, she didn’t like to think that she alone was the root of his happiness; one had to have joy within them to make others happy, and Black Hawk definitely made her happy. But she could just as easily be lost to him, and where would he be if _that_ happened? “I am glad that you are able to smile more now, but...you would have found another way to make your heart glad, even if I did not come along. Ma’heo’o[4] would not have you wander alone forever.”

“He didn’t,” Black Hawk said with a grin. “He brought me you.”

“But what I am saying is....”

Again, Lilly giggled. “I would definitely have to agree with nahtataneme on this one, Hannah. None of us liked where he was heading. Ehane[5] worried very much about Mo’ohtaveaenohe.[6] But now things are very different. Neho’e[7] can rest some now.”

Black Hawked smiled and used his thigh to bring his horse closer to Hannah’s. Reaching out, he squeezed his sister’s hand. “How did you become so smart, Sister?”

Lilly shrugged. “Runs in the family, I guess.”

That made both Black Hawk and Hannah chuckle.

 

Lilly stared in amazement at her brother’s new house. It was not quite as large as Hannah’s parent’s home, but it was still significantly larger than any other home she had ever seen. With seven bedrooms, Little Snowbird and Little Porcupine would each have their own rooms, something Lilly had never considered before; she had always shared a room with Star, even now that Gray Eagle’s bedroom lay empty. But that did not bother her in the least; she adored her little sister, just as her father and brother did.

And then there was the outside space; the amount stretching before her was nothing short of astounding. She could not imagine having so much land to run around on. Typically, she and her sister were restricted to her father’s house or his office, or the small grassy area that lay between their house and the livery. It was something she knew her father hated. He’d always felt guilty that his children could not run and play freely, as they would have, if they’d grown up with the People. But with his job, and the fact that her mother, Morning Star, had insisted, they were stuck in town. And because Little Creek was not always safe for those of mixed blood, they’d been severely limited in the places they could go. That was part of the reason why their father took them with him so often; he wanted them to see and feel the open spaces around them, even if only for short periods of time.

“Come. Let us corral the horses,” Hannah said as she lifted her leg and slid to the ground. Landing softly, she turned and helped Lilly down, then reached up to take Star from Black Hawk. Star immediately wrapped tiny arms around her neck and grinned. “And then you can see the house.”

Lilly looked skeptically at the old barn. “That old thing looks like it’s going to fall down,” she commented.

Black Hawk nodded. “And if it doesn’t, we will be tearing it down. We have started plans to rebuild it...as soon as possible.”

Lilly nodded. “That is a good thing, I think.” She stared as her brother and his woman shut the gate to the corral, leaving Midnight, Whirlwind and Little Porcupine’s horse inside together. “You’re going to leave Hannah’s mare alone with Midnight?” she asked worriedly, a frown creasing her brow. The testy stallion was known to bite when a mare balked at his advances and the girl worried that Whirlwind wouldn’t be safe.

Hannah smiled. “Whirlwind seems capable of taking care of herself.”

Black Hawk chuckled. “She is like her human that way,” he said. Then looking at his sister he shook his head. “Midnight seems to get along with her well.”

Lilly nodded, but her frown remained. “What about...the paint,” she said, realizing she didn’t know the name of Little Porcupine’s horse.

“Taa’evaho’ne’e[8] will keep his distance, but he is still young. Midnight should not be too concerned with him yet.”

“Yet?”

“Mostly, the stallion of a herd is not concerned about the young males, but later, he will chase them off...even his own offspring.”

“How do you know so much about horses, Hannah,” the girl asked.

Hannah shrugged. “My tribe had a lot of horses. I spent many years learning about them. It is why I understand them so well.”

Lilly nodded. “I want one,” she said. “Do you think ehane would let me have one, Black Hawk?”

Black Hawk shrugged. “You will have to ask, but I do not see why not. What do you think, Hannah?”

“I think that, as soon as things settle down and we have a chance to really see what we have, then we will know what is available.”

Lilly grinned and her eyes sparkled.

 

Several hours had passed and they were now sitting on the rug in the parlor, just holding each other and relaxing. Hannah sat between Black Hawk’s legs, her own drawn up, as he leaned against a sofa. Each had a cup of tea, but neither was drinking it.

“I like what you did...with his things,” Hannah said, careful not the mention the name of her dead husband. She did not avoid it because of the Cheyenne’s stricture against saying the names of the dead, she avoided it because she did not know if it was right of her to mention him when she was engaged to be married to another.

Black Hawk looked at the wall on the far side of the room. He’d intentionally positioned them in such a way so that they could look at the memorial he had created for her—and for her children. He did not want them to ever think they had to forget their old life, or the man who had loved and cared for them for many years. He’d done this for them because he loved them, and because he wanted them to know that he understood the extent of their loss.

But in a way, he’d done it for himself as well; it was his silent thanks to the man for allowing Hannah to come home, so that _he_ could find her. And he was most grateful; he could not even express the depths of his gratitude—it filled his heart to overflowing.

And so, on Friday, when they were going through the things in her tepee, and she had asked him to take the bundle of Windwalker’s things, so that she did not have to touch them—he knew of the odd ban on women touching a man’s sacred belongings, that, even after her husband’s death, she could not bring herself to touch them—so he took them and brought them into the house. But he could not bear to think of them sitting up in the attic, forgotten and gathering dust, so he’d carried them into the parlor, an idea forming in his head. Busy as they had been, she had not noticed until this moment.

On the wall directly across from them, he’d hung one of the dead man’s war shirts, one that Hannah had so obviously lovingly decorated with her own long, blonde hair before she’d sheared it off in mourning. The top, a dark gray in color, which contrasted sharply against the almost white of the hair that trimmed it, the lower part tan and adorned with course, black horse hair. It was beautiful. Black Hawk had felt an overwhelming urge to put it on when he handled the other man’s shirt; it would have fit him, but—he did not dare. It belonged to a dead man, the man who had had her first. He could not—would not—defile the man’s memory that way.

And on the table against that wall, he’d set out the other man’s medicine bundle. He’d wanted to look in there as well, but had restrained himself. If Hannah would not even touch it, then he would not snoop. He did know that a warrior’s medicine bundle could hold anything; seeds, pine cones, grass, animal teeth, claws, horse hair, rocks, crystals, tobacco, beads, arrowheads, bones—anything small that had spiritual value to its owner. And none of it would mean anything to Black Hawk, because he did not know the meaning behind anything in it. And beside the bundle he’d set out a bow and quiver of arrows.

And finally, on a stand that he’d made himself, he’d placed Windwalker’s shield. Another sacred object, painted long ago after the dead man’s vision quest. He’d probably only been but a young man at the time, and now he was gone. Black Hawk wondered at what he saw, many pictures and symbols that told a story—a story he did not know. He wondered if Hannah knew.

But one thing was certain, he could not put these things in the attic; they were just too pretty, and held too many memories, to be hidden away, even if they did not include him.

“I could not bring myself to put them out of sight,” was his response.

She nodded. A tightness in her chest told her she still hurt over the loss. She probably always would. But tears did not come.

“Can you tell me about the shield?” Black Hawk finally asked.

“I know what the symbols mean, but that is all. A warrior does not discuss his vision quest with anyone other than the medicine man.”

Black Hawk frowned. “Not even his wife?”

Hannah shook her head.

“Come, tell me what you know,” he said. Gently, he put pressure on her back and she leaned forward, then he stood up and reached down to help her to her feet. As he walked across the room he was aware that she followed—but very slowly. He knew this was difficult for her, but she did not protest.

“I know that the woman on there is me,” she said as she stared at the tiny, naked, and very pregnant, woman on it.

“I kind of figured that,” he said with a smile. “It is a beautiful likeness.” He hoped to make her full with _his_ child soon.

Her cheeks turned pink, but she did smile. “Try having it sitting outside your tepee for all to see.”

He grinned. “I’m sure it made more than one man curious about you.”

“Humph!”

He chuckled at her, arms crossed over her breasts. Then he looked back at her dead husband’s shield and frowned. “But this was made _before_ he’d met you, correct?”

She nodded. “Not long before, but yes.”

“What does the little tepee mean?”

“That means something is temporary. Like a temporary camp.”

He nodded his understanding. He knew well that the People moved their camp often; they needed to be where the hunting was good and the gathering plentiful. “That is a good symbol to represent temporary.”

Hannah nodded, then her eyes went back to the other drawn images, a tiny depiction of a burial scaffold, and then the arrow pointing east—and then at the hawk that was drawn underneath. She remembered looking at her husband’s shield many a time, way back when she’d first gone to live with the People, but it had been many years since she had been curious about it, or even thought about it. But now—things were different. What she saw there now confused her.

“Do you think...?” she began, but stopped. But Black Hawk seemed to know what she was going to ask.

“I think he knew, Hannah. I think he knew that he would not live a long life.”

She continued to frown. Her husband had not seemed a sad man, but how could he be otherwise if he knew his life would be short?

“Nobody knows how much time Ma’heo’o will grant them,” Black Hawk said quietly, as if reading her thoughts.

She glanced up at him in surprise. “I did not realize you were a religious man.”

He shrugged. “Just because I dislike church, doesn’t mean that I have no beliefs.”

She nodded.

“And one thing I do believe is that _this_ shield belongs to you as much as it did your husband. It is _your_ protection now.”

Her eyes went back to the shield. Windwalker had said almost the same words to her once; on the day that he’d died, he’d made her promise to keep all of his more sacred things. At the time, she would have promised him anything, if only it would keep him there with her, but later she’d wondered why he did not want to take his most holy possessions to Seano.[9] Now she knew.

“And this,” she said, reaching out and almost touching the sacred object, then pulling her hand back slightly. “Do you suppose that...this is _you_?” she asked. She wanted to run her fingers over the tiny black hawk.

Black Hawk looked at the shield and pondered. The idea that their meeting had been preordained caused a warming in his heart. He had always known it—somehow—but this confirmed it in his mind. “Do you know any other Black Hawks...either bird or man?”

She smiled. “I do not.”

“Well then, perhaps we were destined to meet.”

She nodded. “I see that now as well.” Then, looking back at the holy object, she smiled again. This time when the urge to touch it struck her, she did not hold back. Slowly, her hand went out and, running her fingertips over the hardened surface ever so gently, she touched the final drawing—the black hawk. She did not miss the shiver that ran through the man standing beside her, as if her touch on the tiny drawing was felt by him. And then she let her hand travel down to the feathers dangling. They were jet black. “Are these feathers from a black hawk?”

He nodded. “They are.”

“This is...difficult to take in.”

“I know that it is,” he said, his arms going around her. “Do you want to sit again?” He knew that _he_ needed to.

She nodded and allowed him to lead her to the sofa, where he sat down and drew her down with him. She expected that they’d sit, but he stretched out and she lay down beside him. Moments later they had fallen asleep.

**~oOo~**

“Where is your mother?” Jon asked. He’d decided to ride over to the CW himself, instead of sending someone else, and now he was glad that he did; his daughter and her fiancée were nowhere in sight.

“Nahko’eehe[10] is inside with Mo’ohtaveaenohe, Memeehe,”[11] Little Snowbird said cheerfully.

Jon frowned, wondering if his grandchildren would ever speak a complete sentence in English, or if _he’d_ ever remember all their unfamiliar words. “Inside?” he questioned, glad for the one important word that he _did_ understand.

The two dark-haired children nodded.

Gritting his teeth, he glanced at the other man with him. He’d met Black Hawk’s father on the trail and the two of them had ridden in together. The other man was sitting on the front steps, his youngest on his lap and his twelve-year-old beside him.

“They are inside.”

Daniel smiled and nodded. “Seems so,” was all he said, clearly amused by Jon’s worried tone.

Jon frowned. “ _Alone_.” He turned then and strode up the steps and into the house, not at all sure he really wanted to find his daughter and the other man’s son.

Slowly, Daniel followed.

Upon entering the house, the sleeping couple was immediately visible, both lying on their side, Hannah’s back to the man, and him curled intimately around her.

His fury building, Jon balled his fists, and he would have slammed the door had Daniel not been right behind him. He wanted to go storming into the room, to yank his daughter off the sofa and to give the two of them a piece of his mind, but he didn’t do that. Instead, he walked through the entryway and into the parlor, with Daniel close on his heels. When they were standing on the rug in front of the sleeping couple, he turned and, glaring at the other man, he flung his hand out, as if to say, _See! They cannot be left alone_.

“Relax. They are only sleeping,” Daniel whispered. It was clear that Jon wanted to explode.

Jon’s face turned red, but he managed to keep his voice low. “This is inappropriate!” He gestured at the prone figures. Black Hawk’s arm was curled around Hannah, his hand resting on her ribs, dangerously close to her breast.

“Jon, they’re not children,” Daniel said.

“And they’re not married either.”

“In less than two days they will be. What difference does it make now?”

“It makes all the difference in the world.”

Daniel sighed, convinced that Jon Cooke would never allow the young couple any peace. The two fathers were so very opposite; it was hard to understand a person who felt the need to control everything and everyone. But he was sure that it was equally difficult to understand a man who felt no such need.

“What if she were _your_ daughter?” Jon asked.

Daniel shrugged. “I would have to trust that she was happy. That the choices she made were what was best for her.”

Jon shook his head. “You don’t understand. _Your_ daughters are too young. You will see...when the time comes.”

“Perhaps you are right.” Daniel shrugged. “But right now I don’t have to worry.”

“But _I_ do,” Jon hissed. He had kept his voice down so far, but was now barely able to control its volume.

Black Hawk’s eyes opened and, seeing their fathers standing there, Hannah’s father obviously angry, he flinched. Then carefully, so as not to wake Hannah, he slipped his arm out from under her and got up.

“Do you understand the meaning of, _keep your hands off my daughter_?” Jon fired as soon as Black Hawk was on his feet.

Black Hawk frowned and glanced down at his sleeping woman, then back at the older men. “Can we take this in another room?” he whispered, as he reached for a blanket to cover Hannah up; she looked cold.

Jon watched him, then turned and left the room.

 

“I was not doing anything to her, Sir,” Black Hawk said formally. They had gone into the kitchen, leaving Daniel in the parlor.

Jon scowled. “You call holding her against you, _not doing anything_?”

“You could see for yourself that we were only sleeping...and that neither of us is missing any of our clothing,” he added.

“That is not the point!” Jon burst, again getting a mental image of his daughter swimming naked in the river with this man. “I told you to keep your hands off of her until you’ve married her.” He was pacing now. “But _no_...you don’t listen. Why can’t you just wait?” he asked, stopping short and leveling a glare at the younger man.

Black Hawk frowned. He was all too aware that he wasn’t doing as the man had asked. He thought about Sunday, when he’d made love to Hannah in her brother’s house. He’d promised his own father that he’d behave, and he hadn’t. He just couldn’t seem to help himself. “Because I love her, Sir.”

Jon’s brows knotted together, but he worked to calm himself. “I know that you do, Son. I’m not sayin’ that you don’t. I’m just concerned about salvaging her reputation. It’s already tarnished.”

Now it was Black Hawk’s turn to scowl. He did not like what the man was implying, that Hannah had done something wrong, in either the past or present. She was following her heart, and her heart just so happened to be with him.

“Sir, we care little about what the townsfolk think. All that matters to us is being together. Now, I thank you for giving us your blessing. I cannot tell you enough times how grateful I am. But I’d also like to thank you to stop trying to keep us at a distance. I have no intention of _keeping my hands off of her_ now. We may have yet to stand in front of the preacher, to speak our vows, but in our hearts, we are already joined. That woman in there,” he said, pointing toward the parlor, “is my _wife_ , and I am her husband...and I will not allow _anyone_ to keep us apart. Not even you, Sir,” he finished calmly. His words were firm, but polite. He didn’t want to anger his future father-in-law, but this was becoming ridiculous.

Jon’s only response was to sigh and nod—until he remembered one thing. “My _name_ is Jon...not sir.” It was his last-ditch effort to control the conversation.

 

In the other room, Hannah had become aware that Black Hawk no longer lay behind her. Opening her eyes, she was surprised to see his father sitting across the room in a chair. Frowning, she sat up.

“Hi,” she said with a sleepy smile.

“Good evening, Nahtona.”[12]

Yawning, Hannah frowned. “I am sorry that you have found me asleep. I guess I was tired.”

Daniel grinned at her. “No matter. You’ve had a long week, but I suspect things will get easier once this wedding business has concluded.”

Hannah nodded. “I can only hope. Where is Black Hawk?”

“He is in the kitchen with your father.”

Hannah blanched. Suddenly remembering that she and Black Hawk had fallen asleep together, her eyes flew to the closed kitchen door. Had their fathers come in and seen them that way, or had the man she loved gotten up before that? She must have looked worried, because Daniel chuckled.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t heard any yelling.”

Hannah looked back at him and tried to smile. “My father is a bit of a pain, I think. I am sorry for his outbursts.”

Daniel shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Nae’ha[13] seems capable of taking care of himself.” He stood up then and grinned at the young woman. “Besides, you wouldn’t be the woman you are, the woman my son loves, if not for that pain in there.” He extended a hand to her and, taking it, she got to her feet.

“Now, let’s just go see that all is well.”

Her hand still in his, Hannah smiled and went with him to the kitchen.

 

[1]. Ve’otse’e – Warpath Woman

[2]. Hotohkohma’aestse – Red Star

[3]. nahtataneme (nâhtataneme) – my brother (woman speaking)

[4]. Ma’heo’o - God

[5]. ehane (éhane) – our father

[6]. Mo’ohtaveaenohe – Black Hawk

[7]. Neho’e (Ného’e) - Father

[8]. Taa’evaho’ne’e – Night Stepper

[9]. Seano (Séáno) – Happy Hunting Grounds (the region to which, according to the belief of American Indians, the souls of warriors and hunters pass after death, to be happy in hunting and feasting), Heaven.

[10]. nahko’eehe (náhko’éehe) – my mother

[11]. Memeehe (mémééhe) – grandpa (babytalk)

[12]. Nahtona (nâhtona) – my daughter

[13]. Nae’ha – my son


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter...
> 
> Tuesday...

** CHAPTER FORTY **

_Tuesday_

Hannah opened her eyes and immediately focused on the lacy, curtain-covered windows across the room. For a moment, she wondered what time it was, and then she heard the hallway grandfather clock chime, announcing that it was five o’clock in the morning.

_That explains the amount of light in the room_ , she thought; the sun would rise in approximately forty-five minutes, but the nearness of dawn had already changed the black of night into the approaching light of daybreak.

Her eyes then went to the man lying on the second bed, just feet from her. She couldn’t believe her father had left them in their house alone, but he had. Well, not really alone—the children were there as well—but they were in the parlor, and Black Hawk and Hannah were in the downstairs bedroom together—alone, though they were not in one bed. It had not been easy, convincing her father to let them stay there together unchaperoned; they’d practically had to promise him their firstborn child—but he’d finally given in. He’d acted angry about being forced to capitulate, throwing his arms up and storming out of the house, but when Hannah had followed him outside to issue more promises, he’d simply kissed her cheek and climbed up onto his horse, then sighed and rode away, calling out over his shoulder a reminder that they’d promised.

And they’d been good too. While she’d cooked supper, Black Hawk built a fire, then, with Little Porcupine’s help, tended the horses. He’d commented that the house smelled fantastic when he came in, and managed to get a few kisses out of her, but he too seemed to take their promise seriously. Then the four of them had eaten supper at _their_ dining room table, getting a little silly by not using their utensils. She hadn’t seen the harm in eating the way they always did in their tepee, and the children found it amusing that she allowed it in the house at the table. Even Black Hawk, who was used to using his silverware, set them aside and used his fingers. In a way, they were helping him to get in touch with his Indian heritage.

Afterward, he’d helped her clean up the considerable mess, straighten the kitchen, and then they’d all gotten together in front of the fire. It wasn’t really cold out; it was summer after all, but it made their first night in their own home seem more cozy. And later, after the children had fallen asleep on the parlor sofas, Hannah and Black Hawk had continued to sit on the rug in front of the fire drinking tea and talking.

Yes, they _had_ behaved properly.

Well, _mostly_.

When it was time to go to bed, Black Hawk did carry her into the bedroom, easily lifting her up and tossing her over his shoulder as if he were kidnapping her, and she’d giggled all the way into the bedroom. When he’d put her down, she thought he was going to break his promise, and she knew that she wouldn’t have had the strength to keep her own if he did—but he didn’t. Quickly, he’d left the room so she could change.

Pulling off her dress, she’d placed it at the end of her bed, then donned the white cotton night dress and crawled into her bed. When he appeared, he was wearing long underwear bottoms, but his chest was bare. She could not help staring at him. He was perfect and she wanted him.

But they’d promised.

Slowly, he’d approached her, saying that he just wanted to kiss her good night. And he did. But then she’d scooted over so he could crawl in beside her. He did, with the promise that he would just hold her. And that is all that they did. Sometime after she’d fallen asleep, he’d slipped out of her bed and into his own.

And now, in the early hours of the morning, she stared over at him.

“Are you sleeping?” she whispered. She did not want to wake him if he’d found sleep. As for herself, she hadn’t gotten much sleep during the night. The fact that he was so close, yet so far away, had been just too distracting to maintain slumber for more than short periods of time.

When no answer came, she figured that he was sleeping. She was glad for him, but disappointed for herself.

But then he moved, and she could tell that he’d lifted up his covers, a clear indication that she was to move to his bed.

Smiling, she pulled back her own and took the three steps to join him.

“Pevevoona’o,”[1] she said as he folded her into his embrace.

Smoothing her hair back and draping his leg over hers, he kissed her forehead. “Morning. How did you sleep?” he whispered gruffly.

“Not so good.”

He laughed. “Me neither. But I don’t have much to do today. You have that tea to go to.”

She groaned. “Please do not remind me. And I also have another fitting.” She sighed.

“Well, you need to know that your dress will fit,” he pointed out. “That all the stitches are in and such. Don’t want it to fall off during the ceremony.”

She grinned. “I don’t suppose that would be good, would it? But it’d give everyone more to talk about.”

“I don’t think I would like that very much,” he said with a frown. “For the entire town to see my wife unclothed.” He shook his head and squeezed her, as if shielding her from anyone’s view. “Besides, we have given them enough to talk about. Let us just hope Mrs. Tailor knows what she’s doing.”

She grinned. “Oh, she does. I have never seen any woman in town have trouble keeping her clothing on,” she said in an attempt to reassure him. “Unless she _wanted_ them to come off.” She giggled, then continued. “Though, if we were having our own _private_ ceremony...I do not think I would mind so much if mine fell off.”

Black Hawk chuckled. “ _You_ , are a wicked woman,” he said as he rolled her to her back and kissed her neck. She giggled again and, loving the sound, he kissed her again. Then he moved up to her chin, nibbling gently at the line of her jaw for a short time before capturing her lips.

They lay like that, kissing, his hands lightly caressing her face and hair, for some time; neither knew how long, but both were breathless when he finally pulled back, their bodies on fire, hers wet and ready, his hard and throbbing, both of them trembling with need.

“We must stop,” he said, falling away from her and staring at the ceiling as he tried to regulate his breathing. “We promised.”

She could only nod. Yes, they _had_ promised. And they’d been good—mostly.

When _her_ breathing was under control, she snuggled up to him. His arms immediately circled around her, but he was careful to avoid touching her anywhere that might arouse. That in itself was a difficult feat, as just touching a strand of her hair seemed to inspire desire.

They lay like that for some time, then both drifted off to sleep again, waking again only when Little Porcupine came in to tell them that someone was knocking on the door.

 

“Oh damn!” Hannah cursed, jumping up and throwing on the wrapper she’d borrowed from her sister. “My father is going to kill me.”

“Calm down, Hannah. We haven’t done anything wrong,” he said as he buttoned up his pants.

She looked at him and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, while I go out to die.” She grinned as she flew out of the room to answer the persistent knocking that had moved a little closer to pounding. She opened the door to see her entire family standing on the porch.

“We thought we’d bring breakfast,” Mary said with a grin as, arms loaded with food, she pushed her way into the house and headed for the kitchen. Magen grinned and followed, the children ran in to meet Little Snowbird and Little Porcupine, James and Hunter stepped over the threshold, James eyeing her attire, or lack there of, and her father just stood there on the porch staring at her.

“You promised,” he accused.

“And we kept that promise, Pa,” she said, joining him on the porch and linking her arm into his. “I _promise_.”

Jon frowned and eyed her, trying to tell if she was lying, but that only made him notice that she was outside in her bedroom clothes. “Shouldn’t you get dressed?”

“I will, but I need to visit the privy.”

He glanced at the outbuilding, so far away from the house, and frowned. “You should be properly dressed, daughter, not wandering about outside half clothed.”

She laughed. “It’s only just there, Pa. I bet you and Ma crossed to the privy in your night clothes many times.” Saying that made her father blush and she knew that it was true. “I will be right back. You go on inside,” she called out as she went down the steps and crossed the front yard to their primitive facilities.

 

“So, have you come up with seating yet?” Mary asked. The women had set all the food out, but everyone was just standing there staring at the table.

“Ma, we have not really had a meal here yet.”

Little Snowbird giggled. “We eated here last night,” she said, her English much improved, but not perfect.

Hannah grinned. “I am not sure that counts, daughter. And we will _not_ eat like that again this morning,” she said, gesturing for her two to sit where they had the night before. Black Hawk took his seat then, at the head of the table closest to the kitchen. Everyone else just found seats after that, Hannah taking the one beside her fiancée.

“So, I trust the house was fine last night?” Jon asked between mouthfuls.

“Yes, Pa.”

“Nothing else needs fixin’?”

“Other than the barn, no.”

“Yeah, that barn always was crap,” Jon said with a glance at his wife. “Now we’re even.” He was referring to the money he’d overpaid her the previous day and smiled as she shook her head. Then he went on. “We was just kids when we built it. Do you remember, Mary, when Harrison fell off the loft?”

Mary nodded and smiled. “And I remember who was at his side first.”

Jon frowned then, trying to recall.

“It was Anna,” she said. “Your Aunt Anna’d always had thing for your Uncle Harrison, but none of us knew it until that day,” she told her children. “She’d even managed to keep that secret from me, and we shared a bedroom.”

“You all lived in the same house?” Hunter asked, a confused frown creasing his brow.

Mary nodded. “ _This_ very house,” she said. “I thought you knew that we grew up together.”

Hunter shook his head.

“Hmm...well, that’s another story, but it’s true. I’ve known your father since the day I was born. Our parents are very close; they all came over from Iceland together.”

Hunter glanced at his father; he hadn’t said a word and it was obvious he didn’t like the line of conversation.

And then the subject was changed.

“So, you were warm enough?” Jon asked, directing his question toward the other end of the table.

Black Hawk nodded. “Yes, Sir...Jon.”

“Pa, it _is_ July...of course the house was warm enough.”

“Well, I could smell smoke last night, so I assumed you’d had a fire...thought you might have been cold.”

“No, we were _not_ cold.” _Quite the opposite, in fact_ , she thought, though she did not say it. Her eyes met Black Hawk’s and she smiled when he took her hand under the table.

Jon looked at them suspiciously; he did not miss their silent conversation, though he did not understand what passed between them. Both looked guilty, though both had promised him that nothing had happened.

“How did the horses fair,” James asked.

Black Hawk shrugged. “They were all right. None seem any worse for the wear. But I’m sure Midnight will like to have a roof over his head by winter.”

James nodded. “Don’t worry...we’ll have a barn raisin’. Everybody will come help.”

“People really do that?” Black Hawk asked skeptically.

“Yep! Sure do,” Jon said. “And it’d probably have been better if that’s what we’d done originally. Like I said, that barn was always cr _aaa_ -mmed with...bad...stuff,” he amended before his wife could extract another two bits from him. “Made...with really bad....” He saw her grin.

“ _Workmanship_?” she supplied.

“I was going to say wood.”

“Hmmm...that too. Rotted through and through,” she said with a nod.

Hannah grinned. All the Cooke children, young and grown, were grinning. It wasn’t often that their parents talked about the past, or poked fun at one another. Mostly they had to listen to their father ranting about this or that, and their mother’s heavy sighs as he droned on and on. But _this_ was fun. They enjoyed this much better.

**~oOo~**

“Do you have everything you might need?” Mary asked her daughter. They were standing in what would soon be the room Hannah shared with her husband, choosing last-minute items.

“I think so,” she said. She had two packed bags. One full of what she’d need to get ready for her wedding in the morning and the second one, a bit larger and Indian made, for the few days she and her new husband had planned to spend alone afterward.

Mary smiled. “The next time you enter this room you’ll be a married woman.” She sighed and glanced at the bed. “I don’t suppose you have any questions?”

Hannah shook her head knowingly; her mother spoke of the marriage bed and relations between and man and his wife. Having already been married, she had no questions on the subject. “No, Ma. I do not.”

Mary nodded sadly. She understood, but it was something she’d always regretted about the way things had turned out with her eldest daughter; because Hannah had run off, they’d never been able to talk about such things—she’d always felt just a little bit cheated about not being able to pass on vital pieces of information about men and love and marriage. She knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault, but it made her sad nonetheless.

“I am sorry, Ma,” Hannah said, sensing her mother’s melancholia.

Mary shrugged. “It really is all right. There is just a part of me that is sad about missing this the first time around. I wish things could have been different, but there is no need for you to apologize.”

Hannah nodded. “I know. I am sad about...the past as well. I was very happy, but I do regret running away like I did. I really did not mean to hurt everyone so much. I was just crazy in love, I guess.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Maybe...if I’d stayed here, then he...he might not have....” She stopped, her hand coming up to cover her mouth, unable to continue. And when she blinked, her tears trickled down her cheeks.

“Oh Hannah,” Mary said, going to her daughter and wrapping her arms around her. “His death was not _your_ fault.”

“I know that,” Hannah said with a sigh. “But my thoughts run away from me from time to time. Like...maybe he would not have been out hunting that day...if he had no wife. Or maybe...if I had gone out with the hunting party, it would not have happened. Or...I wonder if... _maybe_...I had not missed the deer the day before, then he would not have needed to go out on that day.” She shrugged. “I know it is not my fault, but it still hurts, because maybe I could have prevented it.”

Mary nodded. She did understand, _but_.... “But we cannot live our lives on maybes and ifs, Hannah. Whether you’d brought in meat or not probably had nothing to do with his decision to join the hunt that day. God knows I have little affect on your father’s decisions,” she said with a roll of her pretty blue eyes. “And, if you’d gone with the hunting party, it might have been _you_ that had been killed. Where would that have left Little Porcupine and Little Snowbird?”

Hannah frowned.

“And, if you’d never married him, then you wouldn’t have what you do have now...those two _beautiful_ children.” She shook her head. “You just can’t second-guess the choices you’ve made.”

Hannah continued to frown, but wiped at her tears. “You are right. I have a lot to be grateful for. I just miss him.”

“I know that you do,” Mary said with a nod. “But life goes on. _Your life_ is going on. Tomorrow you take a husband, and he will be a good one, I can tell; he is a good man.” She smiled when her daughter’s eyes brightened. “And perhaps you two will make me a grandmother again soon.”

Hannah blushed. “ _Ma_.”

Mary grinned. “Well, I missed so much with the two you’ve already given me, and I _so_ want to hold a babe in my arms again,” she said, hugging herself and smiling. “And, none of your brothers, or your sister, seems likely to marry any time soon, so I guess it’s up to you.”

Hannah giggled. “Well, we will do what we can.” Her cheeks were still pink, but she was enjoying the new relationship with her mother; her mother was becoming a friend.

Mary grinned again. “That’s my girl!” she said, patting her daughter’s hand and then picking up one of her bags. “Ready?”

Hannah nodded. “Let me just see if I can make myself look presentable.” She quickly washed her face, to remove the evidence of her tears, then she smiled and said, “All set.”

**~oOo~**

At the livery, Black Hawk bid Hannah goodbye. They did not expect to see one another again until the next morning when she became his wife and they were both feeling the weight of it; it seemed a huge sacrifice to be separated for so long. Holding both her hands in his, he leaned to give her a chaste kiss.

“Until tomorrow,” he said, staring down into her luminescent blue eyes.

“Are you sure we cannot just sneak off together,” she whispered.

He smiled. “I would like that...but I don’t think that would go over very well, do you?”

She glanced over at her family; they stood several yards away waiting with amazing patience. Then she looked back at the man she loved. “Probably not, but I would not care.”

He laughed. “Well, _I_ would. We have to live with these people.”

She pouted. “Well, all right, if you insist.”

“I do.” He paused. He would be saying those very same words the next morning and they felt so right. Leaning to give her another kiss, he touched his lips to hers, but then pulled back quickly. “Go now, before I change my mind and drag you over to the courthouse.” When she would have readily agreed, he grabbed her shoulders and led her over to her parents.

 

Hannah went with her family over to the hotel where they checked in and went up to their rooms. Once again she shared a room with Magen, but this time Katie and Little Snowbird’s room was just another room in the suite her father had reserved for them. Their mother would share the suite as well, and the men and boys would take the only other one in the hotel. The only family member that was missing was Michael, and he’d agreed to join them for supper; they had reservations in the hotel’s fancy dining room.

“All settled?” Mary asked her daughters. She was standing in the doorway to their room smiling joyfully at them.

“Yes, Ma,” Hannah said. “Where is Little Snowbird?”

“She is in the toilet. I think she has flushed it at least ten times now.”

“Nahko’e,”[2] the child said, appearing beside her grandmother. “Where all that mahpe[3] go?”

Hannah smiled and knelt in front of her daughter. “To be honest, I do not know. There are pipes...ahhh...hollowed out tubes, like a flute...or...like your father’s pipe.” She paused to swallow. The words were painful, though not as much as she would have thought. Then she went on. “They are in the walls. They carry the water away.”

Little Snowbird’s eyes rounded with amazement, then she turned and ran back into the washroom to flush the toilet again and to watch the water swirl away.

**~oOo~**

“Are you sure there’s not anything else you need?” Mrs. Tailor asked Mary.

“Not that I can tell,” Mary replied with delight. “The dress is gorgeous.”

Hannah rolled her eyes. It was, after all, _her_ wedding, not her mother’s, but the two older women seemed quite intent on leaving her out of most of the decisions. She had to admit though that she did think her dress was pretty. It was the exact color of her eyes and fit perfectly; she was amazed at how comfortable it actually was—for a dress with a built in corset. And, with the final touches added, she didn’t think she’d ever seen a more lovely one.

Smiling, she said, “It is perfect, Mrs. Tailor. Thank you.”

Mrs. Tailor smiled proudly, then pulled out a box and began wrapping it up. “Shall I have this delivered to the hotel?”

Mary nodded. “Oh, yes please...we do need to be going.” With that she picked up her reticule and nodded at her daughters. “Come now ladies, we have a tea to get to.”

**~oOo~**

The distance they’d had to cover was minimal, at the very least. If fact, the hotel was literally just across the street from the dress shop. Upon entering the lobby, Mary exchanged a few quiet words with the man behind the counter, then turned to her daughters.

“Why don’t the two of you go freshen up, then meet me down here in fifteen minutes. I should be finished by then.”

Hannah frowned. “There’s no need for that, Ma. We’re here now. Why not just head over to Marjorie’s?”

Mary frowned. “Hannah, please indulge your mother and do what you’re told...for once.”

Once again, Hannah rolled her eyes. Her mother was sounding more and more like her father. “All right, Mother,” she said, taking up her sister’s hand and heading toward the stairs.

**~oOo~**

“Oh... _my_...God!” Hannah exclaimed as they reached the top of the three flights of stairs it took to get to the hotel’s suites. “Now I actually _need_ freshening up.”

Magen giggled. “Oh come now, it wasn’t _that_ difficult.” It hadn’t been, though she was a tad out of breath herself.

Hannah scowled. “No, but it _was_ unnecessary.”

“It wasn’t to Ma.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” Magen said, a little too quickly. “Come on. Let’s just do what Ma wants.”

Hannah frowned as she watched her sister scurry into the bedroom.

“I think I’ll change my dress.”

“Why? You have only worn that one for a few hours.”

Magen poked her head through the bedroom doorway so that she could see her sister. “Because, _this one_ ,” she said, touching the bodice of her dress, “is all dusty from our ride into town and I’d rather not feel dirty.” She eyed her sister’s dress. “You know, you’re pretty dusty as well. Maybe you should change too.” She quickly disappeared in hopes that it would end any comments from her sister. It did not work.

“I do not mind being dusty,” Hannah said as she brushed at her dress, then sneezed as plumes of travel grime fluffed into the air around her.

“Well, _okay_ , if you say so,” Magen said from the other room.

Hannah frowned, then acquiesced. “Oh, _all right_ , I will change.”

**~oOo~**

Upon returning to the lobby, Hannah followed her sister through the open room and into another—the banquet room. It all happened so quickly that she hadn’t had time to question anything or protest their direction, but she was shocked at what she found there.

“SURPRISE!” the room chorused. “Congratulations!”

“I-I...do not know what to say,” she said as she stared at the room full of people, utterly amazed that so many women of Little Creek had come to wish her well on her last day as a single woman.

“You do not have to say anything darling,” said Marjorie. The older woman had positioned herself near the doorway on purpose, since it was her boarding house that Hannah had believed she’d be attending a tea. “Just come in, sit down and have something to eat and drink. We have tea and cake, of course. And I made some tasty punch.” The older woman glanced around then linked her arm through Hannah’s as she leaned in to whisper, “I’ve spiked the punch, darling, so have tea if you’re not interested in a little nip.”

Hannah grinned. “I would like to try the punch...I think I’m going to need it after a surprise like this.”

The older woman nodded. “I’ll have one with you. But we might want to tell your mother...that’s her third cup.”

Hannah could only laugh.

**~oOo~**

Hannah had received many gifts from the different ladies in town. Some just tokens, others real offerings of congratulation. But everything was lovely and made her feel cared for. It seemed to be an odd change to the reception she’d received in church on the day of her wedding announcement. She hadn’t quite believed her mother and Sarah when they’d told her opinions would change, but apparently some already had, or maybe they were just being polite.

The women of the quilting circle had presented to her a double wedding ring patchwork quilt with matching pillows that were so beautiful they almost made Hannah cry. She’d had to fight the tears back as she thanked each woman. When she finished, she was handed another gift.

“Your mother tells me that you downright detest proper footwear.”

Hannah smiled at the woman who’d just handed her a box. All she knew of her was that she and her husband owned Little Creek’s only shoe shop. And she guessed that the woman was perhaps a year or two older than herself.

Hannah expected to find a pair of the shoes she loathed so much, but upon opening the package found two pairs of elegantly designed and decorated moccasins, one pair short and good for the summer, the other more of a boot. Grinning, Hannah lifted the shorter ones from the box, then bent to try them on.

“You are the one who made shoes for my daughter and sister.”

The woman smiled and nodded. “I used those as practice, so that I could make these. I must say, they _are_ comfortable.” She blushed slightly. “I must admit that I tried them on. I have already made a pair for myself, though Hans has forbade me from wearing them outside our home.”

“They are wonderful,” Hannah said delightedly as she stood up and walked around the room in her new footwear. “Thank you, Mrs. ...?” She stopped, realizing she didn’t even know the woman’s name.

“Schumacher,” the woman said with a smile. Then she shrugged. “What else would I be called? But you may call me Marlee. Hans and I moved here about six months ago; it has been...difficult making friends.” She was referring to her German husband and the many prejudices that ran rampant in their small town. “I hope that we can be friends.”

Hannah smiled and hugged the woman. “Of course we can. Thank you so much.”

Hannah next received another dress from Mrs. Tailor, and a lovely hat and gloves from Sarah Walker, and a receipt of credit from Mrs. Kelly, allowing Hannah to choose whatever she wished to have from Kelly’s Mercantile.

Hannah stared at the amount on the credit slip. “This is too generous.”

Mrs. Kelly shook her head. “Not to me, dear,” she said with a glance at her daughter. Abigail had hardly spoken a lucid sentence until the day Hannah had returned and the older woman was grateful beyond words.

Hannah’s eyes had followed the older woman’s and could guess what she was thinking. “Thank you, Mrs. Kelly. I am sure this will come in handy as we figure out what we need,” she said, tucking the slip into her pocket as she stood up to hug her friend’s mother.

Laura Kelly smiled. “That _was_ my thinking, dear. One can’t know what she’s going to need as time goes on. I hope this will give you a good start.”

Hannah had to blink back tears again, but managed to keep them from falling. When she was sitting once more, the last package was plopped on her lap.

“And _we_ ,” Abigail said, indicating herself and the young women with whom Hannah had gone to school, “didn’t know what to get you, Hannah, so we all pitched in and bought you...a few articles...of clothing.” Abigail blushed slightly and the other young women giggled.

Hannah had just opened a large pink box that had been tied with a red ribbon, a trademark of Mrs. Tailor’s dress shop; it was full of unmentionables.

A bit too loudly, Mary said, “God knows she needs them.” Then she hiccupped.

Everyone laughed at her comment, including Hannah. “Thank you everyone. As my mother’s just said, I _am_ in need of these. _Everything_ is just perfect. Thank you!”

**~oOo~**

Michael stood in the lobby just outside the hotel’s banquet room, his hands clenched into fists at what he was being forced to do. For most of the day he’d been putting it off, but Mr. Wyndham had come into his office again around four o’clock and demanded he take action immediately—demanded that he arrest his sister on the eve before the day of her wedding, for the crime of assaulting his son. He’d sent Billy to inform his father of the situation, but had brought Jake with him. Both of them glanced at a smirking, Mr. Wyndham, who stood tapping his foot with undisguised impatience at the other end of the lobby.

“We better get this over with,” Jake said.

Michael looked at his watch and nodded. “You remember what I told you to do afterward?”

Jake nodded. “Of course.”

Michael sighed. “Well, all right then, let’s go,” he said as he turned the knob and stepped into the banquet room.

**~oOo~**

“You’re here to do _what_?” Mary exclaimed in shock. She was quickly on her feet and, pushing her eldest daughter behind her, she faced her firstborn.

“Please Ma, don’t make this harder than it is,” Michael whispered.

“ _Harder than it is_?” Mary screeched, the alcohol she had consumed getting the better of her.

“I’m just doing my job.”

“How _dare_ you use that excuse!” she snapped angrily. “ _This_ is your sister!” She grabbed her daughter’s hand with both of her own and held on for dear life.

Michael winced. He’d expected this behavior, or something along this line, from his father, but not his mother. From _her_ he’d expected her usual calm and collected attitude.

“Mrs. Cooke,” his deputy interrupted. “The sheriff must do his duty.”

Mary crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the deputy, then said, “Jacob Samuel Jarvis, don’t you dare refer to _my_ son as if he were anything other than _my son_.

“Ma’am...I...” Jake started, but was silenced by Michael.

“ _Ma_ , you cannot interfere with my job. I am here to arrest Hannah and that’s what I’m going to do. I cannot play favorites or I’d be as bad as the last sheriff this town had. Now, _please_ step aside.” He prayed that she would. His father would never forgive him if he had to use force where his mother was concerned. “ _Please_.”

Finally, when it appeared that he’d have to physically take control of the situation, Hannah disentangled her hands from their mother’s and stepped forward. She would not put her brother in a position where he had to use force against their mother.

“I will go with him, Ma.”

“No!” Mary barked.

“Ma, Michael’s right. I have to go.”

Mary’s eyes filled with tears. “But this is ruining our perfect day,” she whined. “And what about tomorrow?”

Hannah shrugged. “I guess I can get married in my cell,” she said with a grin.

Mary gasped. “This is not funny.” She turned on her son then. “You better make this right, young man,” she scolded.

“Ma, I will do what I can...but right now all I can do is my job.”

 

Even though Mr. Wyndham had practically thrown a tantrum, Michael had simply refused to put his sister in irons, saying that there was no risk. It had infuriated Mr. Wyndham so that he’d ranted furiously all the way from the hotel to the sheriff’s office, drawing the attention of nearly everyone on the streets. Michael had only just closed the door to his sister’s cell when his father and brother came walking in, angry scowls on both their faces.

“What the _hell_ is going on here?” Jon Cooke demanded.

But Michael didn’t have time to answer because the next two to come into the office were Billy, escorting a cuffed Jesse Wyndham.

“What the devil?” Mr. Wyndham exclaimed.

“Your son is being arrested for attempted rape, Sir,” the young deputy said. He didn’t give the elder Wyndham time to say anything. Instead, he turned Jesse toward the cells and locked him in the one furthest from Hannah.

“This is ludicrous! My son only kissed her. You drop those charges immediately!”

“Just as soon as the assault charges are dropped.”

“You can’t do that!”

“I can and I am. You see, Mr. Wyndham, I have three witnesses who say my sister was only defending herself.”

“Well...we’ll see about that!” he sputtered through gritted teeth before rushing out of the office.

Michael was sure the angry man was headed over to his lawyer’s office, but at the moment Michael couldn’t worry about anything, but facing his father. Holding up a hand, he said, “I know what you’re going to say, Pa, but I’ve _got_ to do my job.”

Jon Cooke eyed his son, then rubbed his face and nodded his head. “I know. I just want to see my daughter.”

Michael nodded and extended a hand as if to say, _go on ahead_.

 

Hannah was standing, her hands curled around the bars of her cell, her forehead leaning on them, when her father walked in. She’d heard the commotion in the other room, but could not see anything, and she was surprised when Billy brought Jesse in and locked him up in the far cell. Her former friend had only looked at her once, but now he paced in his confines.

“Hannah girl, you all right?” he asked as he reached through the bars to hug his daughter.

“I am fine, Pa. Relax.”

“Relax!” he boomed. “How can you be so nonchalant about this?” His eyes went to the man at the other end of the room. “ _That one_ is lucky I cannot get my hands on him!”

Jesse stopped pacing and glanced up worriedly, but looked away quickly when Jon Cooke’s eyes pierced him.

“I don’t want to leave you here with this piece of—”

“ _Pa_ , I will be fine. Please do not worry. Michael will stay, I’m sure.”

Jon scowled. “That brother of yours....”

“...is doing the job this town pays him to do,” Hannah finished before her father could make any disparaging remarks about his eldest son.

Jon frowned. “Why are you two always defending one another?”

Hannah grinned. “Well, someone has to...with you picking on us all the time. Now...you go.”

“Well...all right,” he said, then seemingly noticing her dress for the first time, he said, “You sure do look pretty...too pretty to be spending a night in jail. And that’s all that it’s gonna be!” he snarled, his words meant for the other man in the room.

Hannah chuckled. “Go on now, Pa. I’ll be fine.”

Jon Cooke nodded, then leaned forward and kissed his daughter’s forehead through the bars. “You try to get some sleep, ya hear?”

Hannah nodded, then watched her father leave the room.

“ _If one hair on her pretty little head is harmed, so help me God_ ,” she could hear her father bellow once he’d gone back into the office.

“Pa, do you really think I’d let someone hurt my sister? Come on, everyone who works for me adores her. She’s in good hands!”

“I suppose,” Jon said. “Where’s Black Hawk? He ought to know what’s happening.”

“I sent James to inform him,” Michael said. “But he hasn’t returned yet.”

Jon nodded. “Well, when he does, send him over to the hotel. I’m probably going to need some help with your mother.”

Michael scoffed. “I’ll say. She’s furious with me.”

Jon sighed. “Well, that’s to be expected...but she’ll calm down...when this is over.” Jon patted his son on the back, then left the office.

 

“What do you mean he’s not there?”

James shrugged. “Just what I said...he’s _not_ there. No one was home. I went over to Harry’s too and he’s closed up the saloon for the night. Mrs. Walker said that her husband and his brother and Black Hawk had gone off together for the day, to do something...something Indian, I think. I can’t remember what she said.”

“A sweat bath,” came Hannah’s voice from her cell.

Both men went to her.

“What?”

“They are cleansing themselves, before the wedding. They will likely not return until late tonight, or perhaps early tomorrow morning.”

Michael frowned. “Well _this_ is inconvenient.”

Hannah laughed. “Well, there is nothing he could do here anyway, so it really does not matter.” She turned then and went to her cot. “I am tired, so I think I will turn in.”

“Hannah?”

“What Michael,” she said, not looking at him as she tried to get comfortable on the narrow bed.

“I’m sorry.”

She chuckled. “This is not your fault.”

“But I arrested you.”

“Only because I was fighting...again. You _did_ warn me. Did you not?”

Michael frowned. “I suppose.”

“Then relax. You were just doing your job.” She pretended to yawn, hoping they’d just leave her alone. “Good night.”

“Good night,” her brothers said in unison.

 

“I’ll stay here the night. Give Pa the news about Black Hawk.”

James nodded, then left, and Michael closed and locked the office door when his brother was gone. But he’d only just managed to sit down at his desk when a pounding on his office door nearly unseated him. He opened the door to find his mother and sister standing there glaring at him.

“What can I do for you, Ma?” he asked, not moving aside though she made it obvious she wanted to come in.

“Are you not even going to _feed_ your prisoner supper?” she snapped.

Michael noticed then the tray of food his mother carried and rolled his eyes. “For the love of God, Ma....”

“Don’t you take the Lord’s name in vain,” she scolded as she pushed past her son and marched into his detention center. Then seeing that only a cell separated her daughter from the man she was in jail for assaulting, she turned on her son. “Damn it, Michael, what’s _he_ doing in here?”

“I think you owe yourself two bits,” he quipped.

Hannah giggled from her cot and Magen did the same from behind her mother.

Mary’s face turned almost purple with rage, but she managed to calm herself before speaking. “I want you to go get me two large sheets, a length of rope, and some clothes pins... _immediately_!”

Frowning slightly, and not wanting to leave the jailhouse unattended, Michael didn’t budge for a moment, but then he took a deep breath and left to do his mother’s bidding. It wasn’t like he couldn’t trust his own mother. When he returned with what she’d asked for, she ordered him to open the remaining cell, where she ran the rope from the cell window bars to the door bars, then used the clothes pins to secure the sheets, making a wall between Hannah and her assailant.

“That’s better,” she said with a smile. “ _Now_ , we can have supper in peace. Open this door so that I may eat with my daughter.”

“ _Ma_. That’s against protocol.”

“Like hell it is!” she snapped. “What do you think I’m going to do, pass her a nail file or something?”

Michael sighed. “Oh, all right. But just long enough to eat.”

Mary smiled. “And not a minute longer.”

 

It was nearly eight o’clock by the time Mary hustled Magen out of Hannah’s cell. She only did so because she knew Jon would be coming to get them shortly if they did not return to the hotel before the sun went down. They did not want to, of course. In fact, both of them would have stayed, had an invitation been extended, but as the case was, one was not forthcoming. Mary’d left her daughter with a pitcher of fresh water, a clean towel, and something nice to sleep in, and a basket of fruit, just in case she had a hankering for something before breakfast was brought in.

When they were gone, Hannah picked through the fruit. Smiling, she picked up an apple and bit into it. It was sweet and tangy, just the way she liked them. Then, while still chewing, she stripped, washed herself, then quickly slipped into the night dress her mother had brought for her. She’d have preferred to be naked, as she most often slept in her tepee, but she knew she could not do that in her cell, where just anyone could come waltzing in, or with Jesse in the same room. Finally, she climbed onto the little cot and, pulling the blanket over herself, then closed her eyes. But sleep did not take her immediately.

“ _Hannah_.”

Hannah’s eyes snapped open at the whisper, but she didn’t respond.

“Hannah,” came Jesse’s voice again.

With a frown, she turned her head to look at him, forgetting for the moment that a sheet obstructed her view.

“Come on, Han, I _know_ you’re still awake. No one falls asleep that quickly.”

Sighing, she felt compelled to answer him. “What is it, Jesse?”

“You can’t marry him.”

“I _am_ marrying him. It may not happen tomorrow, as we have planned, but I _will_ marry Black Hawk. This ploy of yours is only delaying the inevitable.”

All she heard after that were the springs of the man’s bed creak as he rolled over, then, about twenty minutes later, light snoring that told her he slept. She closed her eyes then and reached for the same.

**~oOo~**

...thud!

Michael stirred, but he did not wake.

Thud, thud, thud!

This time Michael sat up straight and glanced around. He’d fallen asleep in his office. But... _why_? Then he remembered; he’d had to arrest his sister—and Jesse—and now he was sleeping in his office to make sure Hannah was safe.

Thud, thud! “Open the damned door, Michael!”

Frowning, Michael got up and went to the door. “Jesus Christ, I’m _coming_!” he growled. “Damn, you’re pounding so hard you could wake the dead,” he said as he flung the door wide.

“Apparently not, I’ve been knocking for nearly half an hour.”

Michael glanced at his wall clock; it was after midnight. Then he looked at his sister’s fiancée. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”

“For whom?” Black Hawk asked in disgust as he stepped into the sheriff’s office. “You’re not the one locked in a jail cell on the eve of your wedding.”

“Well, nice of you to drop by,” Michael snapped, not liking the other man’s tone. “Where’ve you been all day?”

“I’ve been preparing myself for my wedding.”

Michael scowled. “So I heard. It would have been nice to know _where_ that was happening...for reasons such as this.”

Black Hawk ran a hand through his long, dark hair, then heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry, Michael. Do you think that, had I known this was happening, I’d have been anywhere but here?”

Michael shook his head. “No. I know you’d have been here.”

“Then why am I getting the third degree?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“How’s Hannah?”

“I’m fine,” came a feminine voice from the next room. “Jarred awake by loud men, but fine all the same.”

Black Hawk turned and rushed toward the voice of the woman he loved.

“Ve’otse’e,”[4] he whispered. “How are you?” He clutched at her through the bars that separated them, running his fingers through her hair and pressing his lips to hers.

“I am...fine...my love,” she said. “I think though...that our wedding...might be...delayed,” she said in between kisses.

“Like hell it will!” he snarled. “Michael!” he growled. “You have to release her.”

Michael winced. “Black Hawk, you know I can’t do that.”

Black Hawk sighed. He knew that the sheriff could not do as he’d asked, even if he _was_ Hannah’s brother, but it’d been worth a try. “Then let me stay with her.”

Michael frowned. Propriety dictated that he refuse, but he could not. Going to his desk to retrieve his keys, he quickly unlocked the door, allowed his sister’s fiancée inside, then he locked it behind them and left, closing the door between the cells and his office as well.

 

“Are you all right?” Black Hawk asked, touching her face and taking in the night dress she wore. In the flickering light of the wall lantern he could hardly see more than just a dark shape, but as his eyes adjusted to the low light, he saw her eyes sparkling with joy and the line of her lips curling into a smile.

“I am fine. My brother has treated me well...did you expect less?”

Black Hawk grinned. “No, not really...of course not!” he amended. “But I _was_ worried when I heard what had happened.”

Hannah grinned. “Well, as you can see, I am fine.”

“I was so worried!” he repeated.

“No need.”

“I should have been here,” he said, half to himself.

She smiled. “You _are_ here.”

Black Hawk frowned. “I should not have been out gallivanting.”

Hannah raised a brow. “You were not. You were out readying yourself. _This_ ,” she said, waving a hand at the room at large, “Is just _protocol_. There might be a fine, but that is all. I have been perfectly safe.”

“We can afford a fine.”

She nodded. “I know. But there is something worse than the fine.”

Black Hawk frowned in confusion. Her eyes glinted with mischief, but it was hard to see by lantern light.

“You are about to marry a jailbird.”

Now it was his turn to smile. “Is _that_ all? I do not think that is so bad.”

“And why is that?” she asked.

“Because, I love my little bird. I do not care if she has a criminal record.” He leaned down then and captured her lips with his. She tasted clean and sweet, and just a little bit tart, just the way he liked her. “Besides, maybe it will keep my little wicked bird in line...to know that she is not immune to the law.”

She scoffed. “You are funny.”

“And you didn’t think I could be.”

She laughed. “I never said that. Now...tell me about your day,” she asked.

He shrugged, not wanting to discuss the happenings of _his_ day. “It was nothing special. Tell me about yours...before you came _here_. The tea...how was it?”

She narrowed her eyes. He hardly ever wanted to discuss himself. “It was... _interesting_. I have found that I have many more friends than I was aware of.”

Black Hawk grinned. “That is good, yes?”

“Yes, I suppose. But friends do not matter.”

“Oh?”

She shook her head. “No...only _you_ matter.” She kissed him then, square on the mouth, her tongue seeking his. “I cannot think of any other, Mo’ohtaveaenohe.[5] Make love to me,” she said, switching to Cheyenne.

Black Hawk pulled back slightly. “Here?” He’d been told that her former _friend_ , Jesse, had been arrested as well.

“Heehe’e,”[6] Hannah said. “Take me... _please_ ,” she begged, her hands going to his belt. “I _need_ you.”

He hesitated for just a moment, his eyes going to the sheet separating them from the other man. But as she freed his manhood, he threw caution to the wind.

Growling, he reached out, pulled up her night dress, then roughly pushed her up against the iron bars. Her legs came around his waist as he plunged into her depths, her arms circling his neck, her lips seeking his. He drove into her so hard once that her head slammed back into the bars, causing them to rattle, but she didn’t seem to notice. Then pulling her down to the cell floor, he mounted her savagely, pumping into her until they were both dripping from the effort and writhing toward release. And when it finally came, they did not stop. After filling her with his essence, he gently moved her to her narrow cot, where he made love to her with such tenderness that it brought tears to her eyes.

Finally, after pulling the cot mattress to the floor and covering themselves with the rough woolen blankets she had been supplied, they fell asleep.

 

Having had to listen to them making love just feet from him, Jesse had to admit that he’d lost. In an attempt to shut out the sounds of their lovemaking, he’d covered his ears and buried his head under his pillow, but he could not block out everything, especially the visuals that entered his mind of their own accord. And it seemed to go on forever. Listening to her moan her pleasure as the other man took her made his heart clench. He’d wanted her for a long time, he realized—probably since they were children. But he now understood that he’d never had a chance to win her heart; there was never anything he could have done to change her mind. Hannah belonged to the half-breed. From the moment she’d arrived back in town, she’d been his. And she always would be.

The realization hit Jesse hard. Tears burned behind his lids as he squeezed them shut. He wanted sleep to take him, but it was hours before it finally found him. It was nearly dawn by the time he drifted off and morning was fast coming, but for the moment he slept.

They all slept.

 

[1]. Pevevoona’o (Pévevóona’o) – Good morning

[2]. Nahko’e (Náhko’e) - Mother

[3]. mahpe - water

[4]. Ve’otse’e – Warpath Woman

[5]. Mo’ohtaveaenohe (Mo’óhtaveaenohe) – Black Hawk

[6]. heehe’e (héehe’e) – yes


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...this is it! The FINAL chapter! I hope you...my ONE reader...have enjoyed the tale! ♥

** CHAPTER FORTY-ONE **

_Wednesday, July 14, 1875_

Unable to look away, but knowing that he should, Michael continued to stare down at his sister. Her nakedness was concealed from his view, but only just; a bare leg, all the way up to thigh level, stuck out from under the cell room blankets and they’d been pushed down so that her back was clearly visible. Really, the only thing that hid her from his view was the fact that she lay, face down, her breasts buried in Black Hawk’s chest, his arm wrapped around her with his hand covering where the small of her back reached her blanket-covered bottom. The man sleeping beneath her was just as naked as she, but Hannah’s body managed to keep most of him hidden. It might have been shocking, had it been any other couple in town freely exposing themselves, but, for some reason, Michael could only shake his head. His sister was definitely unique.

“Hannah,” he whispered.

His sister’s eyes snapped open and when she would have bolted straight up, exposing herself further, Black Hawk’s arm tightened around her, keeping her where she was. And for that, Michael would be eternally grateful. There was only so much a brother could see of his sister.

Black Hawk’s eyes opened then as well, and Michael waited while he focused. He saw just a touch of embarrassment in the man lying there, as if he’d planned on being up early enough to show at least a small measure of decorum, but then he seemed to push his feelings aside.

“I just wanted to let you two know that I’ve sent Billy over to pick up breakfast. He should arrive back shortly.” He paused. “Thought you might want to get up and...ahhh...be decent...before he returns.”

Black Hawk nodded.

With her back still to her brother, she said, “Thank you, Michael.”

Michael stood there for another moment, then turned on his heel and walked back into this office.

 

Hannah sat on her cot and Black Hawk stood leaning against the cell bars the next time Michael came into the room. He was happy to see that the two of them had dressed and were seemingly ready for visitors. Both looked at him as he came in. He went first to Jesse’s cell, pushed a tray of food under the bars, then came and did the same for Hannah.

Hannah sat up and eyed it. “That is not enough food for two,” she commented.

“No, it’s not,” Michael said. Then removing his keys, he opened the door. “And that’s because Black Hawk’s leaving now.”

“Michael!” she protested, on her feet now. “This is our wedding day. Can’t we at least spend it together?”

“Relax Hannah. I have no intention of keeping you two apart. As we speak, Pa and James are down at the courthouse talking to Judge Prescott about settling this...at least by this afternoon,” he added. “And I’m sure the Reverend will understand and agree to marry you later in the day.”

Hannah frowned, clearly not liking the plan, but Black Hawk nodded his understanding. “I will go home and change, then return.”

“You certainly will _not_!”

Everyone turned around to see Mary standing in the doorway.

“You should not even be here,” she scolded. “It is bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “Oh Ma, I think we’re beyond that by now, don’t you?”

Mary shook her head vehemently. “No, I do not! This wedding is going to go on as planned...even if we have to do it right here in this jailhouse. I’ve talked to the Reverend; he will be here at ten sharp. Now you!” she said, her eyes going to Black Hawk. “Shoo! You can come back later.”

Black Hawk smiled, then kissed Hannah and left quickly before there could be further protest from his beautiful bride-to-be.

 

Her mother having finally gone, Hannah sat down to eat her breakfast, which was now cold from sitting there while her mother jabbered on about moving the wedding to the jail. Nibbling on her toast, she sighed heavily; this was _not_ the way she’d hoped her wedding day would go. She’d never really considered how it _would_ go though, but _this_ was definitely not it. Then smiling, she chuckled to herself. It really was kind of funny. That she’d be getting married in a jail cell was certainly something different than anything she’d ever heard of before.

“I don’t suppose that it’s any of _my_ business, but...what _ever_ are you laughing at, Hannah?”

Hannah stopped immediately, her eyes swinging to the sheet separating her from Jesse. “No, you are right, it is _not_ any of your business!”

He sighed. He didn’t know what to say to her. He loved her so much. He’d _always_ loved her, but now he’d ruined their friendship. Now he realized that’s all he’d have _ever_ had from her and he knew he should have been satisfied with that. And now he’d ruined her big day and she was laughing about it, and that made him feel even worse. How could she be laughing at a time like this? he wondered. But then he smiled sadly and answered his own question. _Because...she’s Hannah_.

His head was in his hands when he heard a scratching noise. When he looked up, he was looking into Hannah’s clear blue eyes; she’d reached through the bars and pulled down the sheet.

“But I will tell you anyway,” she said. “I guess I find it humorous that I will get married _here_.” She threw her arms up in the air and glanced around her cell. “It’s not exactly the color scheme my mother was hoping for.”

Jesse looked at the gray block walls and frowned. He’d ruined _everything_ for her.

“And I’m not sure how she plans on fitting everyone inside this place.” She paused as she sized up the room. “I do not think that even our families could crowd in here, let alone any of the townspeople. But, just between you and me, I didn’t want to invite anyone from this prejudiced little town anyway.”

Jesse watched as she began pacing.

“But I guess _you’re_ invited...can’t really exclude _you_ , now can I?” she said, dropping onto her cot and staring across at him.

Jesse blushed. “I’m sorry, Hannah,” he whispered. He was standing there clutching the steel bars. “I just didn’t understand.”

Hannah shook her head. “I’m not even mad at you, Jesse. I’m just sad. You were my _friend_. How could you do what you did?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I guess I just thought that I could change your mind...that I could make you love _me_.” He stopped, realizing how absurd that sounded. Make _Hannah Cooke_ change her mind? Now _that_ was utterly ludicrous!

She shook her head. “I _do_ love you, Jesse. I have _always_ loved you...but not like _that_. You are my friend.”

“Still?” he asked.

For a moment she just stared through the empty cell at him, then she nodded. “Yes, in spite of everything, you are my friend still.”

Groaning, Jesse leaned his forehead against the bars and closed his eyes.

Hannah watched him, then making a decision, she stood up and went to her locked cell door. “Michael!” she shouted. Then impatiently, she called out again. “Michael!”

Within seconds he appeared.

“What is it?” he asked, a worried frown bunching his brows together.

“I want Jesse released immediately.”

“ _What_?” both men said in unison.

Hannah didn’t bother looking at Jesse. “You heard me.”

Michael shook his head. “No way, Hannah, not after what he did to you. He’s stayin’ _right_ where he is.”

“Is that so?” she asked, her hands fisting on her hips.

Michael nodded, then frowned when Hannah smiled.

“I might not have much knowledge of the law, dear brother, but I do know that _I’m_ the only one who can press charges against Jesse...and I absolutely refuse,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “I want him released _now_!”

Michael stared at her for a moment, then turned and marched into his office, returning with some paperwork and his set of keys.

“You’ll have to sign this,” he said, pushing the papers through the bars and into his sister’s face.

Hannah read the paperwork, then handed them back to her brother. “I will not sign either of those. Let him go!”

“You’re making a big mistake, Hannah,” he said as he went and opened the other cell door. “Dropping the charges against _him_ will, in no way, free you.”

Hannah shrugged. “I know that, and don’t care. I cannot do this.”

Michael held the door open for the other man and slammed it shut when Jesse had stepped out, then started out of the room. “Come with me. You have one to sign as well!” He didn’t wait for Jesse to follow.

Jesse stopped in front of Hannah on his way out. “I’d not have hurt you. I certainly had no intention of...of....” He frowned. He couldn’t even say the word rape.

Hannah nodded. “I know that.”

Smiling sadly, he went into the sheriff’s office.

 

“Now take your shit and get the hell out of my face!” Michael said through gritted teeth as he practically threw the other man’s belongings at him. “And I don’t want to see you anywhere _near_ my sister. Is that clear?”

Jesse nodded, then slipped his pocket watch and money clip into his pocket.

“ _Well_...what are you waiting for?” Michael snapped when the other man didn’t move to leave right away.

“I...I just wanted to say that...I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well...fine! Little good that does us all now! Now get the hell out of here!”

Jesse frowned, then put on his hat and left the sheriff’s office.

 

“You’re going to wear a hole through that wood floor, Michael,” Hannah finally called out. Her brother had been in the other room pacing for nearly half an hour and she figured she’d better talk to him.

“Are you crazy?” he asked, appearing in the doorway. “Holding him here was the only way to insure your release today. His father would never allow his _precious son_ to stay here more than one night.”

Hannah could sense his frustration. She was frustrated too. But doing things the way her brother wanted to do them didn’t sit well with her. “Michael, you can’t hold someone like that. That’s bribery...or something.”

“So!”

“So...it’s not right, and you know it. Plus, I never filed charges against Jesse. The whole thing was a hoax. Nice try, trying to get me to sign those papers.”

Michael sighed. “I just wanted it on record, Hannah, just in case he tries to hurt you, or some other woman, again. Now we have _nothing_! If only you’d signed them, he’d have an arrest record.”

“Well, you do not have to worry. Jesse will not ever do such a thing again. I am sure of it!”

Michael frowned. “How can you be so sure?”

Hannah shrugged. “I don’t know, I just am,” she said as she plopped down on her cot again, then flung herself backward.

Michael watched her lie there, then he left her to her own thoughts. Sitting at his desk, he stared at the complaint form he’d filled out, but she’d refused to sign. Then, balling it up, he tossed it across the room and into the trash bin.

“Damn it!”

 

At quarter to nine Michael looked up from his desk to see the man he’d just released opening the door.

“What the hell are you doing back here? I thought I told you to stay away from...” he began. Then he saw that the man had others with him, his father, for one, then both of Michael’s deputies and the entire Cooke clan behind them.

“We’re here to drop the charges against Hannah,” Jesse finally said.

Michael looked from the younger man to his father. Mr. Wyndham didn’t look nearly as agreeable as his son. “Is that so?”

Mr. Wyndham frowned, but finally nodded. “It is.”

“Well then, I’ll need you to sign this.” Michael pushed the paper at him. When it was signed, he handed his keys to Jake and stood up. “I’m glad you came to your senses before this went any further, Mr. Wyndham.”

“I suppose a night in jail is enough punishment for the both of them.”

Michael glanced at his family. He suspected that _they_ didn’t agree where Jesse was concerned—neither did he—but at least the ordeal would be over. Just then Hannah came into the room with Jake and everyone turned to look at her.

“Good day, Miss Cooke,” Mr. Wyndham said, tipping his hat at her, then exiting the office quickly.

Jesse glanced at her, he expression pained, then followed his father out.

“Now!” Mary exclaimed. “Can I get my daughter ready for her wedding, or is there more paperwork to complete?”

When her question met only silence, she beckoned her daughter to follow and they walked out.

**~oOo~**

Standing beside the examination table, Black Hawk handed the suture needle to his father. As soon as he’d arrive at the office, his father had put him to work. A woman had come in with her dog; it had been hit by a passing wagon, and they were trying to repair the damage. Black Hawk watched silently as his father worked, holding the light so the man could see better.

“There!” Daniel exclaimed. “I think that’ll do it!”

“Will she live?”

Daniel shrugged. “She looks good to me. Why don’t you go out and let Mrs. Figg know Puddles will be all right.”

Black Hawk nodded, disappeared for a moment, then returned shortly.

“She says she has a few things to do, then she’ll be back for her dog.”

Daniel nodded. He’d moved Puddles to a recovery cage and was now cleaning up his examination room. “Don’t you think it’s time to start getting yourself ready?”

Black Hawk frowned. “I wanted to go check on Hannah one more time, but...Mary thought it best that I _don’t see the bride before the wedding_ ,” he said.

Daniel chuckled. “Well, that _is_ the way of it. I don’t know who made up _that_ tradition,” he said as he disinfected his instruments, “But I do think it’s silly. Okay, I’m finished here. Let’s go get cleaned up.”

**~oOo~**

Back in their hotel suite, Hannah was pushed into the bathroom and told to bathe, then yanked out, forcibly stuffed into her undergarments, and then made to stand still while her hair was done. The only thing that stopped her from protesting was the knowledge that all she had to do was get through the next few hours and then she’d have several days alone with the man she loved—her husband. Just the thought made her shiver with anticipation.

No family to bother them, no people at all! And no fancy clothes to wear.

_I can even stay naked all day if I wish_ , she thought with a smile as she imagined swimming with her new husband, then sunning themselves on a moss-covered riverbank.

“What _are_ you grinning about, Hannah?” Magen asked curiously. When her sister didn’t answer, she frowned.

“What a silly question that is,” Mary said. “Your sister’s about to be married, what do you _think_ she’s smiling about?”

Magen smiled, but she still wondered what was going on in her sister’s head. She was going to ask again, but a knock on the door prevented it.

Hannah seemed to focus then. She was still in her underwear when the door opened. Her girls had arrived to help her finish.

“Oh Abby, you look lovely!”

Abigail Kelly grinned at her best friend. “Oh Hannie!” she exclaimed. “You look just beautiful!”

Hannah laughed. “I am not even dressed yet, Abbs.”

Abigail giggled. “I know...I guess I _always_ think you look beautiful.”

The two women hugged, then Hannah was helped into her dress.

 

“All right,” Mary said as she stood behind her daughter looking at her in the mirror. She was ready to go—or so she thought. “Just one last order of business.”

Hannah frowned and turned around. “What is that?”

Mary grinned. “ _Something Old_ , of course,” she said, pulling out a box and handing it to her daughter.

Hannah’s eyes widened as she opened the box and stared at the double-strand ivory pearl choker.

“ _This_ ,” Mary said as she lifted the necklace from the box, “Is _very_ old. It belonged to your great-grandmother, Halldóra Gunnarsdóttir.” She motioned her daughter to turn around, then she fastened the lobster clasp and straightened it so that the single ivory pearl at the end of the chain in the back dangled freely. “But now, it is yours,” Mary finished.

Hannah’s hand fluttered up to her neck as she turned to look in the mirror. Then smiled at her mother. “Thank you. I will treasure it.”

Mary hugged her daughter then stepped back so that another could come forward.

“ _Something New_ ,” Gracie said, handing her a small, flat, pink box tied with a red ribbon.

Hannah smiled and pulled on the ribbon. Lifting the box top she found an exquisite pair of diamond white silk crochet gloves. “You made these?”

Gracie nodded. “I am not as good as my mother, but they came out nearly perfect.”

“ _Nearly_ perfect?” Hannah exclaimed, first turning them over in her hands, then slipping one on and holding her hand up to see it better. “They _are_ perfect, Gracie! Thank you.”

Gracie grinned with pride, glad that her gift was so well received.

“My turn,” Sarah said, stepping forward and presenting her portion—an antique brass hairpin, with a cameo-style blue floral design. “ _Something Borrowed_. But...you can keep it until Lilly or Star marry. Daniel gave it to Morning Star on their tenth anniversary, and asked me to hold it after she passed...for one of his daughters.”

Hannah stared at it, then, pushing it back at the other woman, she said, “I...I cannot take this...even for a short time. It belongs to one of his daughters.”

Sarah shook her head and refused to take it. “Of course you can take it. Daniel asked me to do this. He wants to see you wear it.”

Hannah’s eyes filled with tears and she stood there silently as Sarah slid it into her hair, then turned her so she could see it in the mirror.

“It is lovely on you.”

Hannah smiled and blinked back her tears. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Sarah grinned. “You are family now, honey,” she said as she leaned and kissed Hannah’s cheek.

Hannah kissed her back, then looked at Magen.

“I know that you don’t need this, but... _Something Blue_ ,” she said, holding out a small paper wrapped item.

Hannah smiled and opened it up to find a garter trimmed in blue organza lace. “What are you talking about? I love it!”

Magen frowned. “But you don’t need it; you’re not wearing any stockings.”

Mary gasped. “Hannah!”

“Oh Ma, relax...it’s not like I’m forgoing the drawers. And the stockings are uncomfortable.”

Mary sighed and shook her head, but she didn’t say anything.

“And I can still wear it, Magen,” Hannah said, sitting down and slipping the garter onto her leg and up to her thigh. “See?”

Magen grinned.

“Thank you,” Hannah said as she straightened her dress and stood up. “It is perfect.” She then pulled her sister into her arms and hugged her tight.

“And last,” Abigail said. “A bride cannot go without _a sixpence_ in her shoe...for wealth, they say, though I don’t think you need any more of _that_.”

Hannah grinned and took the coin. Though it had some slight wear on both sides, the lettering and date were clear. It said, _Victoria Dei Gratia Britanniar: Reg: F:D:_ on the front, and _Sixpence 1866_ on the back. “Do I really have to wear this in my shoe?”

Abigail shrugged. “You’re _supposed_ to. _I_ did...but we all know how _that_ worked out, so you’d better not.”

Abigail giggled then and Hannah joined in. It was the first true laugh she’d heard from her friend since she’d returned to Little Creek and it sounded heavenly. “I think I’ll take my chances,” Hannah said as she knelt down and put the coin in her shoe. “No sense in tempting fate.”

Abigail smiled. They all did. The morning seemed to be shaping up rather nicely.

**~oOo~**

Having showered and dressed, Black Hawk was combing his hair when a knock on the front door sounded. Putting down his comb, he went to answer it; it was Michael and James and Hunter.

His brow bunched in worry, he said, “Is everything all right?” This day was not going as planned and he hadn’t expected the three of them to show up at his father’s house. He was supposed to meet them at Michael’s office.

Michael smiled. “Everything is _better than_ all right. Hannah’s been released. The wedding will go on as planned.”

“At the church,” James added.

Black Hawk sighed. “That’s wonderful. What happened?”

“In short, Hannah insisted that Jesse be released, and apparently he went to his father and had the charges dropped against _her_.”

“Well, _that’s_ a relief.”

“You’re telling me,” Michael said with a roll of his eyes. “I was beginning to think my mother was going to kill someone...namely _me_.”

Black Hawk chuckled. “I doubt she’d do that.”

Michael shook his head. “Well, I wasn’t so sure. At least now _that_ hell is over.” Then glancing down at his watch, he said, “We’d better get on over to the church. It’s almost time, and our father _will_ kill one or all of us if you’re not there on time.”

Black Hawk grinned. “I told you I’d be ready,” he said, fastening the top button of his shirt and arranging his tie. Normally he hated such a restriction around his neck, but for Hannah, he’d do anything.

“What are we waiting for?” he finally asked as he scooped up his jacket and headed for the door.

Hannah’s three brothers smiled back at him and they all left.

**~oOo~**

Hannah had tried to get out of the surrey without help, but her father would have none of her independent ways. He’d pulled it up to the church steps and told her to sit tight.

“Would you, for once in your life, allow me to be your father!” he demanded as he came around and took her gloved hand to help her to the ground.

Smiling, she let him lower her, then she looked up at the church doors. Everyone was inside waiting on them.

“Having second thoughts?” her father asked.

“Not on your life!” she said without a moment’s hesitation, her eyes swinging to the man still holding her hand.

“Well then,” Jon Cooke said after staring at his first born daughter for a moment. “You look beautiful.”

And she truly was, her blue gown bringing out the blue of her bright eyes even more so than usual and her face shining radiantly. She held a fragrant bouquet of flowers, a mix of Larkspur and Jasmine, a few of them plaited into her hair.

Hannah smiled at her father, then pulled a flower from her bouquet and tucked it into his lapel. “Thank you, Pa,” she said quietly.

Jon waited while she arranged the flower, then he reached out and held her face between his large, work-worn hands. “It is I who should be thankful, Hannah. I am so grateful that you have come home to us. I know that I have not been so...agreeable.”

She shook her head in protest, but her eyes welled as he continued.

“But I am ever so happy that you are here.” He moved his thumbs to wipe her tears away, then leaned to kiss her cheek.

“Thank you, Pa,” she said again, then hugged him.

For a moment he stood stiff, unaccustomed to showing any emotion other than belligerence, but then he melted and brought his arm around to hold his daughter.

“And just remember this moment when your second daughter finally notices some nice young man and falls in love and wants to marry.”

Abruptly, Jon pushed back from Hannah and stared down at her. “And just what’s that supposed to mean?

Hannah smiled as she patted her chest lovingly. “I think you know what I mean, Pa. She’s not a child anymore, just like I’m not.”

He bristled at her words, then stuck out his elbow for her to take. “Are you ready?” he asked gruffly.

She nodded.

 

When the doors opened and the music began, Black Hawk looked back and saw his bride. Dressed in blue and white, she looked magnificent. Her dress, neither too formal, nor casual, showed off her womanly figure; it suited her perfectly. He’d not seen it before, as her mother forbade it, but he thought she couldn’t have chosen a better color to wear. Blue was one of his favorite colors and it looked lovely on her, with her shining eyes of precisely the same shade.

Smiling as she neared, he realized he trembled slightly. He wasn’t nervous, just excited that their day had finally come. And he wanted to touch her. He wanted all of _this_ to be over, so that he had the _right_ to touch her, so that not even her father could deny them what they both wanted—each other.

When she reached him, their eyes locked. Only the Reverend’s voice brought their attention from one another—but only briefly.

“Good people,” he said, speaking to the room at large. “We have come together in the presence of God to witness the joining of this man and this woman in the bonds of holy matrimony. Since the beginning, when the first man and the first woman walked the Earth, marriage was not to be entered into lightly, but reverently and soberly. And into this most holy estate, these two persons have come to be joined.

“God ‘made them male and female. For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one.’”

The Reverend glanced around then, the next words always his most dreaded part of the ceremony. Sighing, he continued.

“If there be any here who can show just cause why these two should not lawfully be joined together, speak now, or forever hereafter hold your peace.”

Both Black Hawk and Hannah held their breaths as the pressure in the room seemed to smother. Hannah felt her chest constrict and Black Hawk’s collar suddenly stifled, but they waited. Whispered words circulated, causing both the bride and groom to glance over their shoulders. The moment seemed an eternity, but not a word of protest was spoken.

The Reverend, relieved for the couple, let out his breath and continued.

“Who gives this woman to be married to this man?” he asked, his eyes going to the front pew where Hannah’s father sat waiting for his part in the ceremony.

Standing, and speaking in a voice loud and clear enough for all to hear, Jon Cooke said, “ _I_ do.”

Reverend Johnson nodded as Jon took his seat once again. He could not help the smile that crossed his lips as he looked at the couple standing before him. They had faced so much. They’d fought hard for what they wanted and they’d won. It would make a huge statement within the community and he was thrilled for them.

“Of all the others you have met,” he went on, “you have chosen each other as partners in life. To grow together in love, you will need to commit yourselves to each other freely and gladly. If you know of nothing, legal or moral, to forbid your vows, and wish now to commit yourselves to each other, indicate that by joining right hands.”

Smiling, Black Hawk turned slightly, so that he faced her more fully, and held out his hand. Hannah took it without hesitation. Only then did the Reverend speak again.

“Do you, Black Hawk Alrik Walker, take, Hannah Kristín Cooke, for your lawful wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance, in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love, honor, comfort, and cherish her, from this day forward, forsaking all others, keeping only unto her, for as long as you both shall live?”

Black Hawk smiled and stared deeply into the eyes of the woman he loved, then squeezed her hand and said, “I do.”

“And do you, Hannah Kristín Cooke, take Black Hawk Alrik Walker, for your lawful wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance, in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love, honor, comfort, and cherish him, from this day forward, forsaking all others, keeping only unto him, for as long as you both shall live?”

Hannah gave a slight nod and, her eyes glowing, said, “I do.”

Smiling, the Reverend addressed those gathered before him.

“Let us now pray for this man and woman, as they have taken the holiest of vows.

“Oh Father,” he said, his arms lifting toward the heavens. “As Black Hawk and Hannah have chosen each other, help them and bless them, that their love may be pure, and their vows may be true, through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.”

And the congregation chorused, “Amen.”

“May we have the ring?” the Reverend asked next.

Hannah and Black Hawk’s gaze went then to Daniel Walker as he stood up and came forward to give the groom the ring, then returned to his seat.

“The wedding ring is a symbol of eternity. It is an outward sign of an inward and spiritual bond which unites two hearts in endless love. As a token of your love and of your deep desire to be forever united in heart and soul, you Black Hawk, may place a ring on the finger of your bride.”

Black Hawk, taking Hannah’s hand and smiling mischievously, slipped the ring on her finger and said, “Hannah, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness to you.”

Hannah grinned. It was not the borrowed ring he had previously given her, but the one he said he’d ordered. Obviously it had arrived sooner than expected.

But then it hit her. That day he’d been late to church, when the reverend had held up making his announcements—Black Hawk had been late because he’d been out of town; he’d made the long trip to Denver to fetch her ring, so that she could have it on the day they married.

Tears formed in her eyes, blurring the ring on her finger and his face as she looked up at him. He gave her a moment to compose herself.

But then she was shocked further when he nodded at the Reverend and the man of God extended a closed hand out to her and whispered, “Put out your hand.” Putting her own hand out, she blinked in confusion as a small object fell into her palm; she stared at the golden band she held, wondering what it was for.

“By the same token, Hannah,” the Reverend went on, “You may place a ring on the finger of your groom.”

For another moment she just stared at the Reverend. This was unprecedented; men simply did not wear wedding bands—not out here in the west anyway. But then, her eyes shifting first to the ring and then to her groom, understanding hit her; he wanted _all_ to know that he belonged to her as she did to him.

Reaching out, she took his hand, her own trembling.

“Black Hawk, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness to you.”

Black Hawk clasped her hand and held it steady as he grinned down at her.

“By the vows spoken aloud in the presence of God and your witnesses, and by the giving and receiving of these two rings,” the Reverend said with a triumphant smile, “I now pronounce you to be husband and wife.”

Turning, he spoke to all those watching. “May I be the first to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Black Hawk Walker.”

**~oOo~**

“It is done,” Hannah said with a grin as she and her husband, riding double on his huge black horse, Midnight, her mare and a packhorse trailing, rode out of town. The day had been long, and more eventful than they had anticipated, but now that they were headed west and away from Little Creek, to a destination known only to them, where they would spend the next week alone, both had relaxed.

But Black Hawk shook his head at her comment.

“No, my bright-eyed wife,” he replied, his grin matching hers as she turned her love-filled eyes up to meet his. “It has only just begun.”

His gray eyes sparkled with love for his new wife as he leaned to kiss her. He would give to her all that he had, all that he was. He could do no less. And he knew that she would do the same. They had truly become one, just as the Reverend had said.

 

**The End**

(for now)

**Author's Note:**

> Summary continued...
> 
> Her world turned upside down, she has a difficult choice to make—stay with the People and marry someone she doesn’t love, or go home. There is no real choice; she decides to return to her own people so that she can make amends. The question is, is it possible? Hannah knows her father isn’t going to be easy to convince. He hated the Indians before she ran away and she’s sure he hates them more now. But something is pulling her. She doesn’t know if she just needs to distance herself from a place that now only reminds her of her dead husband and the love she lost, or if it’s more, but when she arrives home, she’s surprised to find out that sometimes love comes more than just once in a lifetime.
> 
> Black Hawk Walker saw her that first day she arrived in Little Creek, battered and bruised from an attack on the plains, and he had no intention of doing anything more than helping out the town’s sheriff when he was called upon. At first, he resented being asked to help. After all, Hannah’s homecoming meant nothing to him. But then something happened. The way Hannah Cooke looked at him, as if he was the same as everyone else, made the half-breed man warm to her. Much like himself, she was difficult to deal with and much too proud to accept anyone’s help—even when she desperately needed it. But her startling beauty held him captive as he reluctantly rushed to do the job thrust upon him. And once he figured out that she felt for him, the same that he felt for her, he was bound and determined to make her his.


End file.
